IN  THE 
SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

WAR  EXPERIENCES  OF 
MARY  DEXTER 

\9\4-\9\8 


jrnia 
Diial 


4     18    A» 


IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 


AS  A  PROBATIONER 


IN  THE 
SOLDIERS  SERVICE 

WAR  EXPERIENCES  OF 

MARY  DEXTER 

ENGLAND  •  BELGIUM  •  FRANCE 
1914-1918 

EDITED  BY  HER  MOTHER 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
dbe  RitctjJiDc  prciSs  Cambriti0e 


COPYRIGHT,    I918,   BY   MARY   DEXTER 
ALL    RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  October  igi8 


CONTENTS 

I.   England i 

II.   Belgium 71 

III.  Psycho-analysis 97 

IV.  France 135 

Epilogue 208 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

As  A  Probationer Frontispiece 

American  Women's  War  Relief  Hospital,  Oldway, 

Paignton 4 

Arrival  of  Wounded  at  Paignton  Station  .      .16 

Some  of  the  Patients 26 

Christmas  Dinner  at  Oldway  House        ...    36 

In  London,  191 5 66 

Portrait  of  a  Life-Preserver 74 

Sketch  Map  OF  A  Part  OF  THE  Western  Front.      .  137 

The  G.M.C 144 

The  Two  Baraques 156 

Interior  OF  THE  Canteen         156 

One  OF  the  Cubicles 158 

"A  Few  OF  Us" 158 

Air  Raid  at  Cugny 162 

At  Breakfast  in  the  Baraque 166 

The  Two  Lieutenants 178 

At  Work 182 

A  Poilu's  Funeral  near  the  Front    .      .      .      .186 


1.  ENGLAND 


IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

WAR  EXPERIENCES  OF  MARY  DEXTER 

1914-1918 

Lindfield,  Sussex,  England 

September  10,  19 14 

Dearest  Mother:  — 

I  am  nearly  mad  with  joy!  I  have  just  today  had 
a  letter  from  the  American  War  Hospital  in  Devonshire 
offering  me  a  post  —  and  1  am  off  early  next  week,  as  soon 
as  I  can  get  my  wash-dresses  and  aprons.  They  want  me 
to  take  charge  of  a  serving-kitchen  connected  with  a  large 
medical  ward,  and  1  am  to  help  in  the  ward  between  meals 
if  1  like  —  I  need  n't  if  1  don't,  but  1  shall,  needless  to  say! 
And  I  may  get  promotion.  No  pay  —  1  offered  my  serv- 
ices. There  are  quantities  applying  and  the  Matron  says 
she  is  selecting  me  on  the  recommendation  of  the  Secretary 
in  London,  to  whom  the  Carters  introduced  me.  Is  n't  it 
luck!  I  don't  know  for  how  long  —  until  the  end  of  the 
war  if  I  choose  —  but  1  can  leave  when  I  like. 


4  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

American  Women's  War  Hospital 

Oldway  House,  Paignton 
South  Devon,  England 
September  17,  19 14 

It  is  awfully  nice  here  and  I  love  it.  No  wounded 
yet  —  it  is  tiresome  waiting  —  we  are  hoping  any  day  now 
to  hear  that  they  are  coming.  The  War  Office  has  been 
inquiring  how  soon  we  can  take  patients.  You  see  the 
hospital  is  Oldway  House  —  the  Singer  Sewing  Machine 
people's  private  house  built  over  —  and  is  just  ready.  It 
is  a  huge  place  —  with  columns  and  terraces  —  and  enor- 
mous airy  rooms  which  make  capital  wards.  There  are 
two  hundred  beds. 

My  job  is  in  the  medical  ward,  adjoining  the  big  house, 
with  sixty-seven  beds — it  was  the  servants'  banqueting  hall. 
My  special  domain  is  a  darling  little  kitchen  attached  to  it, 
where  the  food  is  brought  and  kept  hot  for  serving  in  the 
ward.  The  patients  who  are  able  will  come  in  to  eat  there 
at  a  long  table.  I  am  in  charge  of  the  food  and  special  diets, 
and  between  meals  I  am  to  help  in  the  ward.  The  nurses 
are  nice,  and  are  teaching  me  a  lot.  I  live  at  their  quarters, 
Fernham,  a  very  comfortable  house,  five  minutes'  walk 
from  the  big  house,  in  the  grounds.  I  am  in  luck,  having  a 
room  up  in  a  tower  —  all  to  myself  —  with  a  quaint  little 
staircase  coming  up  into  it,  and  nine  narrow  windows.  It 
is  nicer,  for  one  has  to  go  there  anyhow  for  dinner  at  12.30 


ENGLAND  5 

and  supper  at  7.30,  and  it  is  good  to  go  directly  to  bed, 
witiiout  having  to  pile  out  in  the  dark  and  wet  back  to  the 
big  house  and  up  a  hundred  staircases  to  bed.  We  get  up 
at  6.45  and  breakfast  at  7. 1 5  —  it  does  not  take  long  to 
dress  into  uniform.  I  enclose  sample  of  my  dress  —  and  I 
wear  apron,  cap,  and  white  sleeves  to  the  elbow.  I  look 
quite  sedate  and  capable! ! 

September  22,  1914 

Am  as  happy  as  a  cricket.  Luckily  1  have  had  this 
week  to  get  accustomed  to  the  life,  for  it  is  quite  a  change 
from  my  usual  one  —  and  when  our  patients  come  it  will 
be  very  hard  work.  The  hospital  is  only  just  ready  — 
operating-room,  bathrooms,  etc.  The  War  Office  has 
wired  that  the  Military  Commandant  will  arrive  very 
soon  —  which  means  the  wounded  very  soon  after  him. 
There  are  quantities  of  people  coming  daily  to  see  the 
hospital,  who  are  a  dreadful  trial  —  and  no  money  can  be 
taken  from  them  unless  they  are  Americans  —  the  Duchess 
of  Marlborough  and  the  rest  of  the  Committee  are  firmly 
decided  it  shall  be  only  U.S.A.  money  to  run  the  hospital. 
We  are  connected  with  the  British  Red  Cross,  however, 
not  the  American. 

1  love  my  kitchen  —  it  is  a  darling  —  and  in  such  per- 
fect order.  I  am  in  charge  of  it,  absolutely  —  the  Head 
Sister  of  the  ward  consults  me  as  to  what  I  want  and  how 


6  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

I  want  it.  I  felt  very  small  and  ignorant  at  first,  but  I 
did  n't  let  on  —  bluff  is  a  necessary  asset!  And  now  I  feel 
quite  au  fait  with  it  all.  1  shall  make  tea  for  sixty-seven 
patients  —  and  see  to  everything.  The  orderlies  do  the 
heavy  cleaning  and  wash  up  —  and  I  have  to  see  that  they 
do  it. 

Being  in  uniform,  cap  and  all,  1  look  like  a  Sister,  al- 
though my  dress  is  a  lighter  blue,  and  the  regular  trained 
Sisters  are  in  very  dark  blue.  I  think  the  orderlies  think 
I  am  one. 

I  hear  that  all  the  world  is  mad  to  be  here,  if  only  to 
scrub  floors.  One  lady  wrote  and  offered  to  pay  a  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  a  year  to  be  allowed  to  come  and  cook  or 
scrub!  The  Matron  told  me  that  she  has  had  countless 
letters. 

October  i,  1914 

Things  are  humming  —  a  hundred  and  thirty 
wounded  arrived  Sunday  night  by  ambulance  train  from 
Southampton,  and  we  expect  more  tomorrow.  We  got 
fifty-four  in  our  ward  —  only  a  few  medical  cases,  rheu- 
matism, head  pains,  and  giddiness  from  exposure  and 
shock,  and  a  case  of  suspected  typhoid  which  turns  out 
now  not  to  be.  The  rest  are  all  surgical  —  some  quite 
bad. 
They  were  utterly  dazed  and  exhausted  that  night  when 


ENGUND  7 

they  arrived  —  too  tired  to  ask  where  they  were  —  only 
one  or  two  asked  later  on  after  food.  They  arrived  at 
8  P.M.  and  how  we  worked,  getting  the  helpless  ones  to 
bed,  and  packing  all  their  filthy  clothing  in  big  sacks,  to 
go  and  be  baked.  A  duplicate  list  had  to  be  made  of  every- 
thing they  possessed,  and  we  cannot  think  of  those  sacks 
now  without  aching  all  over.  And  imagine  me  making 
cocoa  for  fifty-four  patients,  and  serving  beef  tea  and 
bread  and  butter! 

Their  one  idea  was  to  wash  —  some  had  lain  ten  days 
in  the  trenches,  and  many  had  not  washed  for  six  or  seven 
weeks  —  and  when  I  was  not  doing  more  important 
things,  I  was  tearing  about  carrying  bowls  of  hot  water 
for  them  to  do  the  best  they  could  with.  You  never  saw 
anything  like  the  color  when  they  had  done  —  chocolate 
is  pale  to  what  it  was. 

We  got  to  bed  about  a  quarter  before  one  and  were  up 
again  at  6.30  the  next  morning.  Such  a  day  of  confusion 
as,  of  course,  the  first  day  was  bound  to  be.  The  doctors 
never  finished  their  rounds  until  5  p.m.  Now  we  are  in 
running  order. 

I  was  perfectly  aghast  when  I  found  that  I  not  only 
have  complete  charge  of  the  stores  and  the  amounts  of 
things  —  how  many  ounces  of  cocoa  and  pounds  of  sugar 
and  butter  per  week  to  be  used  per  man  —  but  that  I  am 
also  responsible  for  the  diets.   In  the  serving  I  have  to  see 


8  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

that  the  men  on  fish  diet  get  their  fish  —  those  on  mjlk  diet, 
their  milk  —  those  on  "extras,"  their  eggs,  etc.  Also  that 
those  with  slings  get  their  food  cut  up  before  it  leaves  the 
kitchen  —  that  "  No.  45  "  has  always  minced  meat  and  a 
feeding-cup,  as  part  of  his  chin  is  shot  away.  So  far  I 
have  been  too  engrossed  and  busy  to  do  any  surgical  work, 
but  I  shall  get  it  later. 

I  have  several  such  nice  soldier  boys  to  help  me  —  one 
especially  nice  Irish  lad  is  my  right-hand  man.  He  has 
"head,"  in  which  the  orderlies  are  utterly  lacking,  and  is 
a  great  comfort.  The  patients  do  all  the  washing-up  and 
keep  the  kitchen  as  clean  as  a  pin  —  I  mean  several  who 
are  able  —  and  they  like  it.  The  Irish  boy  has  a  scalp 
wound  from  a  bit  of  shell  —  so  his  head  is  bandaged  — 
and  there  are  many  nasty  wounds  in  our  ward  —  bayo- 
net, shrapnel,  and  bullet  wounds.  I  helped  dress  an  arm 
last  night  that  had  a  bullet  right  through  and  out  the 
other  side.  They  are  very  pleased  when  the  bullets  are 
taken  out  and  given  to  them  —  they  put  them  in  their 
lockers  to  show  to  every  one.  One  man  lost  his  fore- 
finger —  cut  off  by  a  German  —  and  it  was  neglected  and 
is  very  bad.  They  are  cheerful  now  —  full  of  chat  and 
jokes. 

Eighteen  come  to  eat  at  the  long  kitchen  table.  1  over- 
hear such  interesting  war  talk,  but  am  too  busy  serving 
to  be  able  to  take  in  much.   Dinner  is  no  joke  —  1  dread 


ENGLAND  g 

the  hour  from  twelve  to  one!  The  meat,  already  carved, 
and  the  vegetables  in  hot  tins,  are  brought  over  from  the 
main  kitchen  for  me  to  serve  —  it  is  not  easy,  for  one 
must  come  out  even!  And  the  "specials"  are  such  a 
care. 

The  Duchess  of  Marlborough  and  Lady  Randolph 
Churchill  came  down  two  days  ago  to  see  us  and  inspect 
everything.  We  suspected  there  was  something  up  their 
sleeve,  and  guess  what  it  was!  You  know  the  American 
Red  Cross  ship  —  the  nurses  and  doctors  have  arrived 
in  London  clamoring  for  work,  and  the  result  is  that  this 
ward  of  ours,  which  is  a  detached  hall,  is  to  be  given  over 
to  them  to  be  run  quite  separately.  We  of  the  British  Red 
Cross  are  to  go  on  in  the  main  house,  and  I  am  to  do  sur- 
gical work.   My  Head  Sister  asked  for  me. 

Am  writing  in  my  kitchen  now,  with  two  orderlies 
circling  about  —  not  conducive  to  consecutive  thought. 

October  2,  19 14 

Am  dog-tired  tonight  —  my  feet.  You  see  distances 
are  enormous  here  —  back  and  forth  from  ward  to  Fern- 
ham,  our  quarters,  for  meals.  The  main  house  is  so  huge 
that  to  go  anywhere  is  a  long  trip.  1  think  twice  before  I 
go  from  one  end  of  our  ward  to  the  other  when  1  am  tired. 
The  American  Red  Cross  nurses  are  here  —  in  a  hotel 
until  their  Home  is  ready.  They  all  had  tea  v*'ith  us  today. 


10  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Two  came  on  in  our  ward  to  relieve  us,  and  soon  I  shall 
perhaps  get  an  afternoon  off  —  oh !  heavenly  bliss  —  how 
I  would  enjoy  it! 

Lots  of  our  patients  were  in  Mons,  and  one  was  among 
the  wounded  in  Rheims  Cathedral  when  the  shelling  by 
the  Germans  began.  They  say  that  the  Germans  driving 
women  and  children  in  front  and  firing  on  the  Red  Cross 
and  killing  women  and  children  is  all  true  —  they  have 
seen  it. 

October  5,  19 14 

Just  another  short  line  to  tell  you  that  today  was 
my  first  as  a  real  "pro."  (probationer)!  When  we  came 
down  to  breakfast,  7.15  a.m.,  the  lists  were  posted  and  1, 
"  Nurse  Dexter,"  was  listed  to  be  under  the  Second  Matron 
in  her  three  wards  —  Leeds,  Churchill,  and  Burns.  She 
and  her  assistant  are  giving  me  the  real  thing  —  and  now  1 
am  in  the  thick  of  it !  I  am  glad  of  my  week  of  kitchen  — 
and  am  far  more  useful  with  what  I  learned  there.  I  shall 
get  off  every  day  now  from  dinner  until  tea  —  2  to  4  —  or 
from  tea  till  supper  —  5  to  7.30  —  a  far  more  satisfactory 
life  than  my  kitchen  where  1  had  all  the  meals  every  day 
and  just  spare  moments  between. 

1  love  the  atmosphere  of  my  new  job  —  instead  of  one 
very  long,  narrow  room,  it  is  three  rooms  and  is  very 
cheerful. 


ENGLAND  1 1 

Churchill  is  the  middle  ward.   Burns  and  Churchill  open 
on  the  front  terrace,  with  a  view  of  the  gardens,  and  Leeds 

is  behind. 

The  men  are  jolly  and  sing  and  whistle  a  lot,  and  there 
is  a  gramophone.    Every  morning  we  make  beds  to  the 


Stwif/img Pon^rv      Men's  Bat h 


|ove/y 
vieiY 


large  marb/e  h»/l 


tune  of  "Tipperary."  I  help  with  the  dressings  and  hold 
the  fractures  while  they  are  dressed.  1  shall  do  them  later 
—  I  bandaged  one  today  —  but  I  am  in  no  hurry,  for  we 
had  no  fractures  at  the  Boston  Dispensary.  Such  terrible 
wounds,  some  of  them!  One  Guardsman,  six  feet  three 
tall,  has  a  fractured  forearm  —  a  piece  of  shell  went  clean 
through.  He  is  in  the  Coldstreams  and  he  gets  unmerci- 
fully chaffed  by  the  others.  They  say  the  Guards  are  only 
"figgerheads,"  their  chests  padded,  and  that  they  went  to 
the  front  in  first-class  carriages!  He  told  me  that  Queen 


12  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Mary  cried  when  she  saw  them  reviewed  the  day  they  left. 
As  a  rule,  none  of  the  Guards  ever  leave  London  —  as  you 
know,  they  must  all  be  over  six  feet  tall.  Another  terribly 
bad  case  is  a  nice,  fair-haired  boy  whose  arm  is  all  torn 
away  by  a  shell.  He  never  stops  bantering,  and  keeps  the 
ward  in  a  roar  of  laughter  while  his  arm  is  being  dressed, 
although  his  lips  and  the  cords  in  his  neck  are  twitching 
incessantly  with  pain.  You  never  saw  such  pluck!  The 
Guardsman  can  walk  about  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  but 
this  boy  can't  move.  He  is  all  day  with  his  arm  on  pillows, 
and  never  utters  a  complaint. 

You  don't  half  appreciate  my  luck  in  getting  in  here. 
There  were  more  than  one  hundred  applicants.  My  friends 
write  that  "  being  in  a  Red  Cross  military  hospital  is  next 
best  to  going  to  the  front,"  and  now  I  am  a  "pro."  doing 
just  what  I  have  always  dreamed  of. 

Here  in  Fernham,  as  in  all  nurses'  quarters,  we  make 
our  own  beds.  There  are  seventeen  of  us  and  only  a  cook, 
parlor  maid,  and  housemaid.  I  have  just  made  such  a  nice 
arrangement.  The  twelve-year  old  sister  of  the  housemaid, 
who  lives  near,  is  to  come  in  every  morning  at  6.30,  to  bring 
hot  water  and  shut  my  windows  —  also  make  my  bed  and 
mend,  and  come  again  at  night  to  put  the  hot  bottle  in 
my  bed.  She  is  delighted  to  do  it  at  a  shilling  a  week!  It 
will  make  a  great  difference,  for  this  room  is  colder  than 
any  one's  else,  being  in  the  tower. 


ENGLAND  13 

It  is  annoying  for  tlie  American  Red  Cross  nurses  who 
have  come  here  —  the  War  Office  sent  them,  yesterday, 
seventy  patients  who  are  almost  well  —  convalescents  from 
another  hospital,  not  straight  from  the  front  like  ours.  But 
1  hope  they  will  get  what  they  want  very  soon. 

October  15,  1914 

By  now  you  will  know  that  I  am  doing  surgical 
work  in  the  wards,  but  one  need  not  think  less  of  my  job 
that  was!  The  American  Red  Cross  nurses  told  me  that  I 
was  what  is  called  in  the  U.S.A.  a  "dietitian." 

We  had  a  great  old  time  yesterday,  for  word  had  come 
that  one  hundred  and  forty  Belgians  were  arriving  at 
4  A.M.  We  were  up  at  all  hours,  and  got  to  the  Hospital  in 
pitch-black  early  dawn,  only  to  find  that  they  were  not 
coming  until  3  p.m.  So  we  went  back  and  on  to  our 
beds  until  time  to  get  up.  When  they  finally  did  come 
in  the  afternoon,  they  were  English!  And  now  the 
beds  are  full  up  —  two  hundred  of  them  —  some  awfully 
bad  cases,  straight  from  the  front  —  the  wounds  are 
terrible. 

One  gets  quite  interested  in  the  men  themselves  —  it 
is  like  living  in  a  book  of  Kipling's.  In  many  ways  they 
are  children  —  this  class  of  men.  I  enclose  you  a  poem 
by  one  of  them  —  he  copied  it  for  me  with  great  pride  in 
red  ink!  Note  the  spelling:  — 


14  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

TEN  GERMAN  ARMY  CORPS 

Ten  German  army  corps  started  from  the  Rhine, 
One  got  as  far  as  Liege,  then  their  were  Nine. 

Nine  German  army  corps,  feeling  most  elate. 
Met  Tommy  A.  at  Mons,  then  their  were  Eight. 

Eight  German  army  corps,  missioners  from  Heaven  (!), 
Lost  some  guns  at  Compiegne,  then  their  were  Seven. 

Seven  German  army  corps,  playing  nasty  tricks. 
Got  sent  a>|ay  from  Paris,  then  their  were  Six. 

Six  German  army  corps,  feeling  half  alive. 

Stopped  to  rest  beside  the  Marne,  then  their  were  Five. 

Five  German  army  corps,  feeling  rather  sore. 
Were  held  up  on  the  Aisne,  then  their  were  Four. 

Four  German  army  corps,  rattled  as  could  be. 
One  met  some  Indians,  then  their  were  Three. 

Three  German  army  corps,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 
Turned  tail  for  Berlin,  then  their  were  Two. 

Two  German  army  corps,  fairly  on  the  run. 
Went  home  through  Belgium,  then  their  was  One. 

One  German  army  corps,  knowing  they  were  done. 
Stopped  to  Curse  the  Kaiser,  then  their  was  None. 

Rest  in  Peace. 


ENGLAND  15 

The  one  who  lost  his  forefinger  —  cut  off  by  Germans  — 
is  nearly  well.  We  saved  his  arm.  He  is  leaving  us  in  a 
few  days.  They  were  getting  a  month  at  home  before 
returning  to  the  front,  but  it  has  been  reduced  to  a  fort- 
night. 1  hear  London  is  black  at  night  and  may  be  bombed 
any  day  —  it  is  all  very  serious, 

October  23,  19 14 

I  am  pleased  with  your  idea  of  typewriting  my  let- 
ters —  they  will  be  valuable  to  me  later  on  —  souvenirs  of 
one  of  the  most  interesting  times  of  my  life.  I  am  writing 
in  the  ward  while  on  duty  —  just  a  hasty  line.  It  is  2 
o'clock,  and  the  men  are  all  napping  on  their  beds.  I  have 
finished  rolling  untold  quantities  of  bandages  on  the  little 
machine  —  and  have  nothing  to  do  for  the  moment.  It  is 
the  slack  period  of  the  day  —  at  this  hour  I  am  generally 
off,  and  come  on  duty  again  from  4  to  8.  I  prefer  it,  as 
there  is  more  work  then. 

Last  week  we  got  a  hundred  and  forty  by  ambulance 
train  —  very  bad  cases.  But  they  were  not  in  the  same 
filthy,  exhausted  condition  as  our  first  lot  of  patients  — 
that  first  week  could  never  be  repeated  —  it  was  the  experi- 
ence of  a  lifetime. 

A  bad  arm  had  to  be  operated  on  —  they  did  it  in  the 
ward  instead  of  taking  him  to  the  operating-room  — 
screened  in,  of  course.   I  am  fond  of  the  boy,  and  was  glad 


i6  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

the  operation  took  place  while  I  was  on  duty.  He  is  the 
boy  who  lay  three  days  in  the  trenches  with  a  dead  man 
beside  him  before  he  was  found,  and  flies  got  at  his  wound. 
If  I  could  stand  that  operation,  I  could  stand  anything. 
I  was  holding  it  and  it  was  all  I  could  bear  —  the  stench 
was  beyond  words.  He  makes  us  laugh  while  it  is  being 
dressed,  although  it  is  agonizing  pain  —  he  calls  it  the 
"butcher's  shop  which  has  n't  been  opened  for  a  week"; 
but,  thank  goodness,  it  is  better  the  last  two  days.  I  do 
the  dressings  for  a  very  nice  boy  who  had  to  have  one  eye 
taken  out  —  I  don't  awfully  care  about  doing  eyes  —  so 
delicate.  They  were  afraid  he  would  lose  the  other,  but  he 
is  getting  on  well. 

M has  twice  sent  a  nice  lot  of  nut  milk  chocolate  to 

the  men,  which  they  love.  I  wrote  her  she  could  n't  have 
sent  anything  they  like  better  —  they  are  very  fed  up 
with  cigarettes  and  jam  and  Devonshire  cream. 

CABLEGRAM 

November  3,  1914 

Terribly  busy  —  hundred  bad  stretcher  cases  arrived  — 
missed  post.  Dexter 

November  6,  191 4 

All  goes  well.   I  can't  manage  to  write  letters  much, 
for  since  our  new  lot  of  patients  came,  the  work  has  been 


z. 


X 


ENGUND  17 

very  heavy,  and  I  sleep  when  off  duty  —  it  is  the  only  way 
to  keep  going.  Terribly  bad  cases  they  were  —  all  stretcher 
cases.  We  were  filled  right  up  in  our  three  wards.  Morn- 
ings, I  work  especially  under  Sister  Vera  in  Churchill,  and 
she  is  teaching  me  a  lot.  She  is  one  of  the  nurses  from  Aus- 
tralia, with  splendid  training  —  is  very  strict  and  gives  me 
the  real  thing  and  a  liberal  supply  of  pepper  which  wakens 
one  up!  She  says  I  have  improved  and  gives  me  a  lot  to  do 
which  probationers  are  not  supposed  to  do  at  ail.  It  is  all 
glorious  experience.  We  have  a  case  of  scarlet  fever  —  dis- 
covered this  A.M.  —  not  actually  in  Churchill,  but  in  Leeds 
adjoining  —  he  is,  of  course,  to  be  isolated,  but  they  are 
very  put  to  it  to  know  where  to  move  him.  There  is 
already  a  case  of  tetanus  isolated,  and  the  hospital  is  so 
full  there  is  no  room. 

I  have  such  lots  to  tell  you,  I  don't  know  where  to  begin. 
I  am  very  well  —  a  very  heavy  cold  went  through  and 
nearly  every  one  of  us  got  it,  but  not  I.  The  Secretary 
came  down  from  London  for  a  week-end,  not  long  ago,  and 
I  hunted  her  up  and  fell  on  her  neck  and  told  her  how 
grateful  I  was  to  her  for  getting  me  here.  She  was  awfully 
nice  and  said  I  was  the  only  person  here  who  looked  really 
well.  It  is  true  that  every  one  does  look  fagged  —  this  is 
really  harder  than  ordinary  hospital  work  in  many  ways, 
and  most  of  these  Sisters  have  been  doing  private  cases, 
which  is  a  less  muscular  life. 


i8  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Later 
The  scarlet  fever  case  has  been  taken  to  the  fever 
hospital  in  Torquay,  and  everything  was  disinfected  this 
afternoon. 

The  British  Tommies  are  the  dearest  things  in  the  world, 
such  refinement  and  delicacy  of  feeling  —  and  sense  of 
humor  —  and  kindness  among  themselves.  It  is  a  priv- 
ilege not  only  to  nurse  them,  but  to  know  them.  They  are 
more  than  entertaining.  They  have  a  lingo  of  their  own, 
all  sorts  of  expressions,  that  mean  nothing  until  you  learn 
them. 

I  just  wish  you  could  see  me  from  9.30  to  1 1.30  a.m.  — 
that  is  our  time  for  doing  the  dressings.  When  1  come  on 
at  7.45,  I  have  to  put  my  little  kitchenette  in  order,  see  to 
stores,  etc.,  and  one  of  the  men  scrubs  the  sink  and  polishes 
the  taps  —  they  do  it  all  for  me  most  beautifully.  Then 
after  our  9  o'clock  tea,  we  start  dressings,  and  no  matter 
how  much  there  is  to  do,  we  strain  every  nerve  to  get 
through  before  the  men's  dinner  hour,  1 1.30.  I  go  ahead 
of  the  doctor  and  Sister  Vera,  "take  down"  the  dressings 
—  have  everything  ready  when  they  arrive  at  each  case  — 
bandage  up  each  case  when  they  leave  —  boil  all  the  in- 
struments after  each  case — and  prepare  the  fomentations. 
You  can  imagine  one  has  to  be  all  there  to  have  the  trolley 
always  ready  and  no  delays.  Sometimes  I  do  the  dress- 
ings, too,  and  have  certain  ones  of  my  own,  including  the 


ENGLAND  19 

boy  shot  through  the  forehead  who  has  lost  an  eye.  Yes- 
terday afternoon  Sister  Vera  told  me  to  do  all  her  dress- 
ings, and  she  arranged  flowers  and  otherwise  enjoyed 
herself. 

November  7,  19 14 

Today  has  been  a  glorious  day,  for  I  was  sent  up  to 
the  operating-room  with  one  of  our  cases  —  Donnaghy, 
a  nice  Irishman  —  a  hip  case  very  interesting  to  us  all. 
A  nurse  is  always  supposed  to  go  with  her  case,  and  today 
Sister  Vera  arranged  for  me  to  go  instead  of  her.  Such  an 
interesting  operation,  too,  for  he  had  a  jagged  piece  of 
shrapnel  in  the  thigh  —  very  deep,  causing  much  pain, 
and  obliging  him  to  lie  always  on  his  face.  They  operated 
once,  some  weeks  ago,  but  could  not  find  it,  so  he  has 
already  two  wounds  —  where  it  entered,  which  is  now 
healed,  and  where  they  operated  before.  Very  interesting 
it  was  today  —  for  after  searching  for  an  hour,  they  fin- 
ally had  to  take  him  to  the  X-ray  room  and  find  it  in  that 
way  —  a  last  resort.  They  entered  from  the  front,  and  for 
one  hour  I  stood  beside  the  doctors,  holding  up  the  X-ray 
plate,  so  that  they  could  see  it  as  they  worked.  I  was  very 
tired  when  I  went  up  —  and  finding  what  I  had  to  do,  I 
had  an  awful  moment  when  I  felt  I  could  n't  bear  to  see 
him  cut  —  but  made  myself  look;  and  after  that  I  did  not 
mind,  or  feel  the  constraint  of  holding  the  edges  of  the 


20  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

plate  for  so  long.  Sister  Vera  told  me  afterward  that  she, 
after  ten  years  of  nursing,  sometimes  shuts  her  eyes  for  the 
first  cut. 

I  shall  have  been  here  two  months  on  Wednesday  —  it 
has  passed  like  two  weeks.  We  have  the  British  flag,  the 
American  flag,  and  the  Red  Cross  flag  flying  over  us  — 
very  nice  they  look. 

We  are  in  quarantine  on  account  of  the  scarlet  fever 
case  —  not  the  Hospital,  but  our  three  wards.  That  means 
only  that  the  men  are  not  allowed  to  visit  other  wards 
and  no  visitors  allowed  in  to  us. 

S is  drilling  hard,  still  in  England  —  he  got  a  com- 
mission in  the  Scots  Guards.    K is  going,  too.   N 

is  already  at  the  front.   Captain  H is  killed,  and  so  it 

goes  —  terrible  news  on  every  side  —  one  simply  would  go 
mad,  if  one  were  not  working  —  too  tired  to  think. 

I  forgot  to  tell  you  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  cases 
in  our  ward  —  a  Gordon  Highlander,  shot  in  the  thigh  — 
and  every  time  we  dress  it,  scraps  of  his  kilt  come  out. 
He  is  for  operation,  as  the  bullet  is  still  in,  and  was  to  have 
gone  up  yesterday,  but  was  postponed,  as  Donnaghy  took 
too  long.  I  do  his  dressings  often.  The  Second  Matron 
often  stays  off  in  the  afternoon  nowadays  and  leaves  Sister 
Vera  in  charge  of  the  three  wards,  with  only  me.  I  love 
the  little  details  of  nursing  —  straightening  their  beds, 
and  generally  making  them  comfortable.  The  doctors  and 


ENGLAND  21 

nurses  call  me  "Sister"  and  sometimes  I  forget  I  am  not 
one  —  until,  at  other  times,  I  feel  hopelessly  ignorant. 

I  am  writing  in  our  little  pantry,  waiting  for  the  night 
nurses  to  come  on. 

November  16,  19 14 

First  of  all,  to  tell  you  that  I  am  on  night  duty  since 
Friday.  Am  writing  by  the  drawing-room  fire,  waiting  for 
"breakfast"  at  7.15  p.m.!  The  hours  are  from  8  to  8  — 
there  are  only  two  night  nurses  for  the  thirty  men  of  our 
wards.  There  is  a  lovely  big  coal  fire  going  all  night  in 
Burns  Ward,  which  is  named  for  Mary  Burns,  the  niece,  by 
marriage,  of  Mr.  J.  P.  Morgan.  We  sit  before  the  fire  — 
very  cozy  —  with  a  small  electric  lamp,  and  two  red  screens 
around  us  to  keep  the  light  from  the  men.  There  really  is 
not  much  sitting,  for  rounds  are  made  every  half-hour. 
Sister  Jeffries  and  1  have  lunch  at  midnight,  separately,  of 
course,  for  we  cannot  both  leave  the  wards  at  once.  During 
the  wee  small  hours,  there  is  very  little  to  do,  for  even  our 
five  worst  cases  sleep  fairly  well.  We  have  cocoa  and  bread 
and  jam  at  4  a.m.  and  half  an  hour  later  the  morning  rush 
begins.  You  should  see  Sister  Jeffries  and  me  dashing  about 
with  bowls  and  methylated  spirit  and  powder  —  we  have 
to  begin  at  that  unearthly  hour  or  else  we  should  not  be 
through  in  time  for  their  breakfast  at  6  a.m.  Any  one  who 
could  see  the  wards  at  4.30  or  5  a.m.,  with  the  electric  lights 


22  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

suddenly  on,  the  men  sitting  up  in  bed,  washing  them- 
selves —  and  those  who  have  the  wherewithal,  shaving 
themselves  —  would  n't  think  there  was  much  poetry  in 
"nursing  the  wounded"  ! !  As  for  their  breakfasts,  I  have 
to  heat  porridge,  make  cocoa  for  about  ten,  tea  for  twenty, 
and  boil  eggs  for  several  —  all  on  one  gas  ring.  By  8  o'clock, 
I  am  jolly  glad  to  get  off,  I  can  tell  you.  At  8.30  a.m.,  we 
have  a  real  dinner  (!)  —  meat,  vegetables,  pudding,  etc. — 
amusing  to  eat  meat  at  that  hour! 

Another  Unit  of  the  American  Red  Cross  arrived.  Two 
or  three  of  the  doctors  are  very  good  and  much  admired 
by  the  English.  Those  of  the  first  Unit  were  using  dry 
dressings  entirely  —  with  vaseline.  At  the  Boston  Dis- 
pensary, too,  dry  were  used  for  fairly  clean  wounds  —  but 
with  boric  salve  —  for  vaseline  is  a  nasty  germ  collector. 
The  British  Red  Cross  are  using,  for  all  dirty  wounds,  the 
fomentations,  which  are  pink  boracic  lint,  wrung  out  in 
boiling  water,  laid  on  as  hot  as  the  patient  can  stand  it. 
They  are  changed  two  or  three  times  in  the  twenty-four 
hours,  and  are  considered  to  clean  up  the  wounds  quicker 
than  anything  else.  The  running  wounds  need  wet  dress- 
ings and  to  be  changed  at  least  twice  a  day.    I  have  seen 

—  with  No.  lo's  arm,  and    Brown's  leg,  and  many  others 

—  that  every  time  the  doctor  has  tried  a  change  to  dry 
dressings  they  have  got  worse,  and  he  has  had  to  return 
to  fomentations.  The  first  American  Unit  used  dry  dress- 


ENGLAND  23 

ings  on  all  wounds  and  only  did  them  once  a  day,  but  as 
soon  as  the  new  doctors  of  the  second  Unit  arrived,  two 
days  ago,  from  Hasler,  the  great  Naval  Hospital,  they  put 
the  whole  of  the  American  ward  on  fomentations!  They 
have  seen  the  good  of  it  at  Hasler.  The  English  nurses 
were  awfully  decent,  and  have  n't  once  said,  "  1  told  you 
so!"  I  almost  felt  that  I  ought  to  stick  up  for  Uncle 
Sam's  methods! 

We  have  a  Cameron  Highlander  and  a  Gordon  High- 
lander in  adjoining  beds  —  both  their  wounds  were  full  of 
colored  bits  of  their  kilts  which  kept  coming  out  for  days. 
The  latter  had  his  operation,  and  I  was  again  sent  up  — 
the  bullet  could  not  be  found  and  he  had  to  be  taken  to  the 
X-ray  room.  It  was  fascinating  to  see  the  doctors'  hands 
X-rayed  as  they  worked,  looking  like  animated  skeletons. 
He  went  absolutely  blue  under  the  ether  —  1  have  heard 
of  it  happening,  but  never  saw  it  before.  The  etherizer  had 
to  clamp  his  jaw  open  and  tongue  out,  and  such  blueness 
I  never  saw.  The  doctors  were  deep  in  his  thigh  after  the 
bullet,  and  I  was  at  his  feet,  rotating  the  leg  for  them  — 
I  was  so  frightened  I  nearly  stopped  rotating,  but  he  got 
better  soon.    ; 

If  Sister  Vera  goes  to  the  front,  as  she  is  keen  to  do,  I 
might  go  with  her.  She  has  been  thinking  of  it  very  seri- 
ously, but  found  that  the  idea  of  her  going  upset  her  three 
bad  cases — Brown,  No.  10,  and  Donnaghy  —  so  much. 


24  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

that  she  said  tonight  she  would  at  least  wait  until  they  are 
better.  Those  three  are  in  adjoining  beds  and  great  friends, 
though  anything  more  different  you  never  knew.  No.  lo, 
whose  name  is  Jakeway  —  called  "Ginger"  by  the  other 
men  —  is  the  red-haired  boy  with  the  terribly  bad  arm. 
It  was  operated  on  twice  in  France  and  twice  since  he  came 
here  —  the  first  time  I  wrote  you  of  —  and  it  had  to  be 
done  again,  more  pieces  of  dead  bone  taken  out.  Poor  lad, 
he  will  be  here  for  Christmas  without  doubt.  He  is  full 
of  fun  and  temperament  —  although  when  his  parents 
came  to  see  him,  I  wondered  whence  he  got  the  tempera- 
ment! He  is  the  origin  of  half  the  fun  in  the  ward.  His 
poor  arm  is  very  bad  —  there  is  a  tube  and  it  has  to  be 
syringed  through  —  a  back-breaking  process. 

In  the  next  bed  is  Brown,  of  the  Oxfordshire  Light 
Infantry,  a  handsome  lad  about  twenty-one  —  and  he 
almost  looks  a  gentleman  —  it  gives  one  a  shock  when  he 
speaks  in  unintelligible  Cockney.  He  was  shot  through 
the  leg  and  has  had  a  very  bad  time  —  the  leg  suppurated, 
and  was  operated  on  again  last  week.  The  bone  was  quite 
dead,  and  he  will  be  very  lucky  if  he  ever  gets  the  use  of  it. 
He  has  a  keen  sense  of  humor  —  very  observing  and  inter- 
ested in  everything. 

Next  to  Brown  is  our  nice,  iron-gray-haired  Irishman  — 
Donnaghy  —  about  forty,  of  whose  operation  I  wrote  you. 
He  is  very  quiet  and  a  great  power  in  the  ward,  and  we  are 


ENGLAND  25 

all  fond  of  him.  He  suffers  a  lot,  but  never  complains,  and 
always  has  a  smile  in  response  to  any  word. 

They  love  discussions,  and  prepare  them  to  spring  on 
Sister  Vera  and  me.  We  have  had  the  most  heated  argu- 
ments at  times  —  the  other  day  it  was  on  what  is  the  realest 
bravery  —  they  got  to  reminiscing  of  their  experiences  and 
feelings  at  the  front  in  a  most  interesting  way.  Brown 
is  trying  to  place  me.  When  Sister  Vera  and  I  were  talking 
about  going  to  the  front,  he  was  terribly  interested  whether 
I  had  ever  put  up  with  roughing  it  —  said  he  could  not  see 
me  traveling  three  days  in  a  cattle  truck  full  of  wounded. 
Nevertheless,  1  said  I  had  roughed  it,  and,  quick  as  a  flash, 
he  said,  "How,  in  a  first-class  carriage?"  He  ended  up 
by  informing  me  he  knew  !  was  a  "  pukka  "  lady !  "  Pukka," 
as  I  wrote  you,  means  "real"  —  the  men  have  picked  it 
up  in  India. 

I  have  never  told  that  1  am  not  paid,  but  they  guess  it, 
and  when  Sister  Vera  ran  me  off  my  feet  —  and  took  my 
head  off,  too  —  they  used  to  remonstrate  with  her,  to  her 
great  amusement.  Most  of  the  nurses  don't  bother  to  train 
probationers,  and  I  am  grateful  to  Sister  Vera. 

In  the  last  lot  of  patients  is  a  big  Grenadier  Guardsman, 
shot  across  the  chest  —  the  bullet  went  through,  just 
escaping  the  breast-bone  and  ribs.  He  is  doing  well  now. 
He  was  married  only  a  week  before  he  went  to  the  front. 
Queen  Mary  recognized  him  when  she  came,  and  told  him 


26  /;V  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

she  remembered  him  well,  on  guard  outside  Buckingham 
Palace.  Also  the  big  Coldstream  Guardsman  about  whom 
I  wrote  you  long  ago  —  she  remembered  him,  too.  He  is 
nearly  well,  going  out  soon.  I  shall  love  to  look  for  them 
on  guard  by  and  by,  when  the  war  is  over!  Queen  Mary 
talked  to  all  the  patients.  The  last  time  I  saw  her  was 
in  the  Throne  Room  in  Buckingham  Palace  —  not  many 
months  ago,  but  such  a  difference! 

I  did  not,  after  all,  let  my  cottage,  for  twelve  hundred 
Territorials  are  quartered  for  a  time  in  Lindfield,  and  two 
officers  have  been  billeted  there. 

'November  22,  1914 

Matron  offered  to  give  me  two  nights  off  before  the 
rush  of  new  patients  who  are  expected  soon,  but  I  said  I 
would  prefer  waiting  until  this  next  rush  is  over  —  and 
then  have  enough  time  to  go  home  for  two  or  three  nights. 
She  said  yes,  and  then  threw  in  last  night  as  an  extra. 

It  is  bitterly  cold  these  days,  and  my  tower  room  is  next 
to  being  outdoors.  I  wear  my  old  green  jersey  coat  on 
duty  during  the  night,  gliding  noiselessly  about  in  the 
peacock-velvet  shoes  you  gave  me,  a  little  searchlight  in 
my  hand.  When  I  sit  down,  a  heavy  coat  and  my  civet-cat 
fur  rug  are  none  too  warm  —  that 's  what  the  Cornish 
and  Devon  "Riviera"  gives  us! 

It  may  amuse  you  to  know  that  the  fashion  in  Hinds' 


nfcfc:,r^i 


j! 


SOME  OF  THE   PATIENTS 

The  Coldstream  Guardsman  is  standing,  with  his  left  arm  in  a  sling 


ENGLAND  27 

Honey  and  Almond  Cream  rages  furiously  here  among  the 
nurses!  It  has  spread  until  nearly  all  are  using  it,  and  they 
thank  me  at  intervals.  One  of  the  probationers  told  me 
today  it  has  cured  her  lame  feet  entirely  in  two  days.  The 
other  night  I  went  down  to  the  dispensary,  which  is  in 
the  basement,  and  lo,  there  was  a  bottle  of  Hinds'  Honey 
which  the  dispenser  had  been  analyzing  to  see  why  it  is 
so  good ! 

The  T 's  are  hard  hit  by  the  war,  as  is  every  one. 

They  are  closing  three  quarters  of  Old  Place,  and  sending 
away  the  cook  —  the  kitchen-maid  is  to  cook  with  the 
scullery-maid  to  help.  Their  menservants  are  all  gone  — 
chauffeur  and  gardeners  as  well. 

November  26,  19 14 

Eighty  more  patients  came  in  on  Sunday.  Among 
this  lot  are  one  or  two  cases  of  bronchitis  and  pneumonia  — 
from  exposure.  One  of  the  bronchitis  men  told  me  this 
morning  that  he  has  several  times  been  in  the  trenches  for 
seven  or  eight  days,  in  water  up  to  his  waist  —  with  no 
chance  to  get  dry. 

We  are  getting  quite  used  to  the  rushes  now,  but  we 
always  dread  the  first  few  days.  They  are  in  terrible  con- 
dition, most  of  them,  mentally  as  well  as  physically  — 
they  lie  for  several  days  without  a  word  or  a  smile.  They 
tell  us  afterwards  that  it  seems  like  a  dream  at  first  just 


28  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

to  lie  in  bed  and  eat  and  sleep.  There  is  a  special,  what 
we  call,  "from  the  front"  expression  on  their  faces  when 
they  arrive,  which  fades.  They  never  speak  of  the  horrors 
they  have  seen  until  long  after  —  one  would  not  ask  at 
first. 

Last  night  I  saw  an  interesting  case  —  one  of  the  worst 
which  came  on  Sunday.  He  is  in  Paget  Ward,  and  one  of 
the  American  nurses  took  me  in  to  see  him  and  to  help  her. 
He  has  lost  his  leg  at  the  knee,  and  gangrene  has  set  in. 
When  they  operated  —  at  the  front  —  they  did  not  leave 
enough  flap  of  skin  to  cover  the  stump.  His  temperature 
was  104  last  night  and  he  is  to  be  operated  on  today,  the 
leg  taken  off  at  the  hip.  All  last  night  the  Sister  had  to 
tightly  bandage  his  leg  for  fifteen  minutes  out  of  every 
hour,  to  prevent  gangrene  spreading.  He  may  get  all  right, 
but  he  may  die  of  septic  poisoning. 

I  am  enclosing  post-card  views  — first  of  Hadfield  Ward, 
and  I  have  marked  "Jones  of  the  Lancers,"  one  of  our 
worst  cases  —  enteric,  a  gangrene  back,  and  wounds  in  the 
shoulder  and  leg.  He  was  rescued  by  one  of  our  men  in 
Burns  Ward,  and  no  one  thought  he  could  live.    Sister 

P ,  who  pulled  him  through,  is  at  the  left,  with  gray 

hair.  The  group  taken  in  the  operating-room  shows 
Hannaford,  who  rescued  Jones  of  the  Lancers,  and  has 
been  recommended  for  a  medal. 


ENGLAND  29 

Saturday  morning,  November  28,  191 4 
We  had  a  Thanksgiving  cake  on  Thursday,  for  the 
American  Red  Cross  nurses  and  me! 

It  is  now  3.30  A.M.  At  4, 1  must  go  to  heat  a  cup  of  milk 
for  the  bronchitis  man.  At  4.30,  I  shall  get  tea  for  the  other 
nurse  and  myself,  and  then  we  turn  on  the  lights  and  start 
the  morning  rush. 

Brown  with  the  bad  leg  has  been  very  ill  tonight  —  in 
much  pain,  and  has  had  to  have  morphia.  He  was  operated 
on  again  two  days  ago,  and  they  took  out  a  piece  of  dead 
bone  the  size  of  a  forefinger.  It  will  have  to  be  plated  later 
—  poor  Brown! 

A  man  in  Paget  was  telling  the  Sister  that  he  had  been 
once  eleven  days  without  sleep,  marching  all  day  and  fight- 
ing all  night.  He  said  he  had  to  kick  men  who  were  about 
him,  to  keep  them  awake  to  fight.  He  heard  men  in  the 
trenches  praying  aloud  that  they  might  be  shot  —  in  order 
to  be  taken  to  a  hospital  to  get  rest.  No  wonder  our 
men  lie  like  logs  when  they  first  come  in!  It  is  terrible  to 
think  of. 

Mwtsey  Ward,  December  6,  19 14 

I  wrote  you  about  having  been  at  home  on  three 
days'  leave  —  it  was  a  lovely  rest  —  breakfast  in  bed,  and 
I  did  simply  nothing,  except  lunch  and  dine  out  quietly 
once  or  twice. 


30  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

I  am  no  longer  in  Churchill  —  Matron  has  put  Sister 
Vera  on  night  duty,  in  charge  of  Munsey  Ward  —  the 
sixty-seven-bed  annex  where  I  used  to  be.  She  asked  for 
me  to  go,  too,  so  here  we  are  —  our  fourth  night  —  and  a 
delightful  change.  Churchill  Ward  was  very  upset  at 
losing  her  and  asked  Matron  to  give  her  back.  The  men 
say  they  are  "pukka"  miserable  without  us. 

I  am  very  glad  to  be  with  Sister  Vera  again  —  it  is 
inspiring  to  work  under  her.   She  and  Sister  Scott,  and  a 

new  probationer,  Colin  B ,  and  I  are  the  four  on  night 

duty  here,  and  very  nice  it  is.  Much  harder  work,  as  the 
Americans  for  some  reason  have  no  probationers,  and 
although  the  Singer  boys  do  a  certain  amount  by  day, 
nine  tenths  of  the  work  of  day  probationers  is  left  for  us. 
So  we  have  not  much  time  to  sit,  although  just  now  the 
ward  is  light.  Munsey  is  a  delightful  ward  to  be  in  —  it 
looks  ghostly  at  night,  and  certainly  very  warlike,  with 
phantom  flags  hanging,  and  one  dim  light  high  up.  There 
are  three  big  anthracite  stoves  down  the  middle,  with  arm- 
chairs beside  them  —  sometimes  we  sit  there  and  some- 
times in  our  little  sitting-room.  I  have  acquired  the  "  night 
nurse's  cat-nap,"  and  can  sleep  sitting  up  and  hear  every 
sound. 

The  other  probationer,  Colin  B ,  is  a  very  good  little 

sort.  She  thought  that  because  I  am  senior  pro.  1  would 
make  her  do  all  the  dirty  work,  and  was  touchingly  de- 


ENGLAND  31 

lighted  to  find  that  I  am  not  that  kind!  We  have  very  jolly 
midnight  suppers,  which  we  cook  ourselves  —  and  the 
night  watchman  washes  up.  It  is  her  and  my  work  to  cook, 
but  we  are  neither  of  us  very  brilliant  at  it,  so  Sister  Vera 
has  been  coming  to  the  kitchen  to  show  us.  It  seemed  very 
odd  at  first  to  be  back  in  the  same  kitchen  where  1  was  in 
charge  during  that  first  week  —  but  now  in  such  a  difi'erent 
way,  no  responsibility,  and  lots  of  fun.  I  have  learned  to 
make  very  good  coffee. 

Probationers  on  night  duty  have  a  far  less  picturesque 
time  than  on  day  duty.  Sister  Vera  laughs  heartily  when 
she  sees  me  doing  some  unpleasant  job,  and  asks  me  how 
I  like  "nursing  the  wounded."  It  is  all  splendid  experience 

—  every  pro.  in  every  hospital  has  to  learn.  From  the 
time  the  lights  go  on  until  8,  washings  and  breakfasts  and 
tidying  —  the  usual  rush  to  get  through  —  1  just  set  my 
teeth  —  it  is  anything  but  gay,  feeling  a  vacuum  that  no 
amount  of  eating  can  prevent.  It  is  the  real  morning  feel- 
ing, without  which  no  night  nurse  is  complete! 

One  disadvantage  of  night  duty  is  that  one  has  very 
little  chance  of  getting  to  know  the  men.  Lights  are  out 
and  all  is  quiet  at  8  in  the  evening,  just  when  we  come  on 

—  and  the  morning  hours  are  not  those  best  adapted  to 
getting  talks  with  them.  We  are  none  of  us  at  our  best, 
nurses  or  patients,  from  6  to  8  in  the  morning!  However, 
one  does  a  certain  amount  of  talking  with  those  to  whom 


32  /;V  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

one  feels  attracted  —  and  I  am  collecting  their  experiences, 
written  by  themselves  in  a  little  book.  Some  write  poetry 
—  or  sketch  very  cleverly.  They  are  very  chary  of  talking 
of  their  real  feelings  or  experiences.  I  think  that  the  Brit- 
ish Tommies'  idea  of  highest  bravery  —  apart  from  some 
brilliant  sort  of  feat  which  wins  a  V.C.  —  is  to  grin  at 
everything,  make  tea  under  fire  with  scraps  of  earth  from 
the  shells  landing  in  their  cups,  and  march  to  meet  the 
Germans  singing  "Tipperary."  I  am  sorry  I  can't  tell 
you  interesting  things  about  men  at  the  front,  and  their 
feelings.  The  British  Tommy  has  n't  much  to  say  about 
his  feelings  —  bless  him!  All  they  say  is  that  they  have  n't 
any  feelings  —  except  that  when  they  are  charging,  they 
see  red.  All  the  horrors  of  war  seem  very  impersonal,  ac- 
cording to  their  account.  I  know  men  who  have  gone  on 
fighting  for  ages  after  they  were  shot.  They  say  that  they 
feel  something  hot  and  find  it  is  blood,  and  that 's  how  they 
discover  that  they  are  wounded.  Brown  told  us  that  a  few 
minutes  before  he  was  hit,  they  were  killing  themselves 
laughing  at  the  Germans  —  who  could  n't  find  the  range. 
When  at  last  they  found  it,  poor  Brown  found  he  could  n't 
walk. 

We  have  a  man  in  Munsey  who  got  shot  in  six  places  in 
one  day  —  shoulder,  head,  arm,  thigh,  and  both  knees. 
The  arm  wound  is  a  very  curious  one,  for  the  bullet  entered 
at  the  shoulder  and  passed  out  at  the  elbow  without  touch- 


ENGLAND  33 

ing  the  bone!  Another  man  had  a  bullet  enter  the  elbow 
and  pass  out  at  the  hand,  also  not  touching  the  bone;  but 
in  that  case,  the  nerve  is  injured,  and  his  hand  is  partly 
paralyzed.  He  suffers  much  from  neuritis.  One  man  saw 
the  back  of  another's  head  blown  off,  right  up  into  the  air, 
leaving  him  standing  there  for  a  second  with  only  a  face. 
No  wonder  that  sometimes  they  have  nightmare,  and  that 
some  of  them  can't  sleep.  They  love  hot  milk  —  it  sends 
them  off  quicker  than  anything.  We  are  giving  it  all  night 
long. 

Sister  Vera  has  made  me  responsible  for  the  dressing  at 
midnight  of  our  worst  case  —  a  Yorkshireman,  with  a 
badly  fractured  femur,  and  the  doctors  are  most  interested 
in  his  case.  The  American  nurses  on  day  duty  said  he  was 
rude  to  them,  but  I  think  it  is  because  they  don't  under- 
stand the  English  way  of  dealing  with  this  class  of  men. 
The  Yorkshireman  is  very  docile  with  Sister  Vera  and  us. 
He  had  no  manners,  and  said  "Yes"  and  "No"  to  her. 
She  smiled  graciously  at  him  and  said,  "  How  about  '  Yes, 
thank  you,  Sister? '  "  He  said  it,  and  has  be-thanked  and 
be-Sistered  her  ever  since. 

I  think  I  have  already  told  you  that  all  the  horrors  of 
the  Germans'  behavior  are  true  —  countless  men  tell  us 
that  a  baby  spiked  onto  a  door  with  a  bayonet  was  a  com- 
mon sight.  One  does  n't  like  to  ask,  for  fear  of  what  one 
will  hear. 


34  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Munsey  Ward,  December  23,  19 14 
We  got  in  a  new  lot  of  eighty  wounded  a  week  ago, 
and  many  old  ones  have  gone  out.  Sixteen  left  from  Mun- 
sey this  morning,  and  tonight  at  "breakfast"  we  heard 
that  a  new  lot  were  arriving  on  the  instant.  We  got 
20  of  them  here  in  Munsey,  Three  were  fractured  femurs, 
all  packed  in  huge  wooden  splints  from  shoulder  to  heel. 
One  man,  a  Scotchman  of  the  Black  Watch,  has  been  eight 
weeks  in  hospital  at  Boulogne  with  both  legs  fractured  — 
a  shocking  condition  after  eight  weeks.  Such  a  nice,  sandy- 
haired  man  he  is,  and  he  does  not  say  a  word,  but  one  can 
see  he  is  anxious  about  it  —  small  wonder.  On  my  side 
of  the  ward  there  is  also  a  nice  boy  about  twenty,  who  will 
never  use  his  right  arm  again.  The  shoulder  is  badly 
fractured  and  they  had  to  take  out  the  top  of  the  humerus, 
as  well  as  lots  of  small  bits  of  bone.  He  has  been  very  help- 
less, but  much  better  now.  He  has  an  egg,  always  scram- 
bled, for  his  breakfast  —  I  do  it  and  take  it  to  him  myself 
—  he  does  enjoy  it,  and  I  would  n't  miss  his  smile  for 
anything.  Another  pathetic  case  is  a  man  who  was  blown 
fifty  feet  into  the  air,  by  an  exploding  shell  which  killed 
the  two  men  next  him.  You  can  imagine  what  condition 
his  nerves  are  in.  He  talks  constantly  in  his  sleep  of 
France  and  Belgium. 

We  all  are  upset  over  the  shelling  of  Scarborough  — and 
the  terrible  loss  of  women's  and  babies'  lives.     It  brings 


ENGLAND  35 

it  all  so  near  home.  Of  course,  here  in  little  Paignton  even 
there  are  no  lights  allowed  on  or  near  the  sea-front.  One 
afternoon  when  I  walked  to  have  tea  with  friends  at 
Torquay,  I  had  to  grope  my  way  along.  We  have  strict 
orders  here  to  veil  all  our  lights  as  much  as  possible. 

It  is  my  week  at  the  bathrooms  now.   Colin  B and 

I  turn  and  turn  about  with  it  all  —  bathrooms,  the  huge 
daily  pile  of  laundry,  etc.,  etc.  Since  the  aeroplanes  came, 
some  of  the  night  nurses  are  nervous  about  lights  in  the 
lavatories,  as  their  roofs  are  of  glass!  I  said  to  Sister  Vera 
tonight  that  if  the  German  aeroplanes  come  and  drop  a 
bomb  on  me  there,  at  least  my  mother  will   have   the 

satisfaction  of  knowing  that  I  died  at  my  post  

doing  unpleasant  jobs  ! ! 

I  really  like  night  duty,  and  although  I  can  come  off  at 
New  Year,  having  then  done  two  months  of  it,  1  am  medi- 
tating asking  Matron  to  keep  me  on  a  bit  longer.  1  am 
awfully  well  and  sleep  gloriously  —  night  duty  is  far  less 
tiring  physically  —  it  has  been  a  comparative  rest-cure. 
When  we  come  off  duty  Sister  Vera  and  I  take  a  walk 
through  the  gardens  for  twenty  minutes  or  so,  after  our 
morning  dinner,  and  then  1  sleep  the  sleep  of  honest  toil 
until  1  am  called  at  6  p.m. 

1  can't  realize  that  the  day  after  tomorrow  is  Christmas. 
1  shall  think  of  you,  and  shall  send  you  a  cable  tomorrow. 
We  are  busy,  in  odd  minutes,  making  gauze  stockings  for 


36  /N  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

our  two  hundred  men  —  each  one  will  contain  fruit,  jam, 
tobacco,  etc.,  and  an  individual  present  from  the  Com- 
mittee. 

December  2^,  19 14 

Such  a  busy  Christmas  Eve  as  we  had,  hanging  all 

the  men's  stockings.    Then  Colin  B and  I  went  to 

midnight  mass  —  just  in  uniform  and  coats,  as  the  little 
church  is  only  ten  minutes  from  our  gates.  After  getting 
back,  we  had  supper,  and  one  of  the  doctors  brought  some 

port.  B and  I  decorated  the  table  and  it  looked  sweet 

—  and  we  had  the  British  and  American  flags. 

Such  a  nice  Christmas  morning  —  we  night  nurses  got 
the  first  flush  of  it  all,  and  I  would  not  have  missed  it  for 
worlds.  You  should  have  heard  the  shouts  when  I  turned 
the  lights  on  at  6  a.m.  and  they  saw  their  stockings.  They 
entered  gloriously  into  the  spirit  of  it,  and  the  big  ward 
rang  with  "  Merry  Christmases!"  They  were  not  allowed 
to  open  the  stockings  before  seven,  but  some  of  them  did, 
and  were  delighted  with  the  strongly  scented  soap  which 
each  one  got!  They  insisted  on  using  it  instead  of  their 
ordinary  soap.  They  also  got  jam,  cigarettes,  tobacco, 
Christmas  cards  from  Matron,  etc.,  etc.,  and  each  a  hand- 
some silver  cigarette-case  from  the  Committee,  all  just 
alike,  with  small  American  and  British  flags,  raised,  on 
the  lid.    They  all  feel  that  they  will  never  forget  their 


•71 


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Z 

z 


■J 


ENGLAND  37 

Christmas  here.  At  the  evening  concert  in  Munsey  — 
where  we  night  nurses  arrived  in  time  for  the  very  end  of 
it  —  they  cheered  the  Americans  loudly.  Later  in  the 
evening,  about  thirty  choir  boys  came  and  sang  carols  to 
the  men  in  the  wards  —  lovely  carols  they  were. 

Our  Christmas  has  been  perfect.  Every  one,  from  the 
patients  to  the  maidservants,  declared  that  they  never 
had  so  happy  a  one.  The  men  loved  it  all,  and  were  as 
jolly  as  school-boys. 

Sister  Vera  and  I  received  Christmas  cards  from  our 
friends  in  Churchill  —  Brown,  Donnaghy,  and  others. 

December  27,  1914 

Yesterday  —  Boxing  Day  —  there  was  a  Christmas 
dinner  in  the  evening  for  the  whole  nursing  staff  in  the 
marble  hall  —  seventy-one  of  us.  It  seemed  odd  to  go  to  a 
formal  dinner  in  cap  and  apron! 

You  know  how  undemonstrative  the  British  Tommies 
are  —  I  made  a  point  of  asking  a  lot  of  them  how  they 
liked  their  stockings,  just  to  see  what  they  would  answer. 
Their  almost  universal  reply  was,  "It's  all  right,  Sister," 
which  is  the  highest  praise  they  are  capable  of  giving. 
No.  20,  the  boy  I  told  you  of,  was  writing  in  my  book,  and 
I  found  that  he  had  put  only  a  few  conventional  lines, 
dates,  etc.  I  happened  to  know  that  he  had  been  sixteen 
weeks  without  a  bath,  until,  during  the  retreat  from  Mons, 


38  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

he  and  some  others  managed  to  get  baths  in  a  horse-trough ; 
also  that  after  wearing  one  shirt  almost  the  same  number 
of  weeks  he  got  a  woman's  blouse,  which  he  wore  until  he 
was  wounded.  So  I  made  him  put  a  postscript  and  write 
those  things  in.  My  book  is  going  to  be  a  treasure,  with 
sketches,  and  whenever  possible,  a  photograph  taken  by 
me  of  each  man  along  with  what  he  has  written.  Many 
nurses  have  books,  but  no  one  will  have  the  photographs 
but  me! 

I  will  keep  on  trying  to  get  the  men's  impressions  for  you, 
in  driblets.  Am  so  glad  you  are  coming  on  the  23d  — 
don't  put  it  off  again! 

Tuesday,  January  5,  191 5,  2  a.m. 

Had  only  three  hours'  sleep  today,  and  in  the  even- 
ing one  hundred  new  patients  came.  They  arrived  at  about 
9.30,  and  we  had  three  hours'  hard  work  before  we  could 
think  of  sitting  down  for  a  bite  of  supper  at  i  o'clock. 
Am  I  tired! !  — This  lot  of  men  are  not  all  straight  from  the 
front.  They  have  nearly  all  been  a  week  or  more  in  hospi- 
tal at  Boulogne  —  nevertheless  they  are  very  tired,  di- 
sheveled, and  dirty.  The  doctors  are  disappointed  at  the 
lack  of  interesting  surgical  cases  at  present  —  of  course 

they  want  good  operations.    Dr.  H made  us  laugh 

tonight  by  his  disgust  over  one  of  his  wards,  where  out  of 
eight  cases  new  tonight,  seven  are  frost-bite! 


ENGLAND  39 

It  is  an  interesting  moment  when  they  first  come  in  — 
one  has  a  chance  to  talk  with  them  while  helping  get 
them  to  bed,  and  packing  up  their  filthy  clothes.  There  is 
a  most  fetching  Gordon  Highlander  on  my  side  of  the  ward 
who  kept  us  all  laughing.  He  had  a  huge  knife  in  his 
pocket  with  enormous  blades,  and  a  sort  of  spike  for  splicing 
rope,  which  latter,  he  told  me,  the  Germans  use  for  finish- 
ing off  their  enemies,  by  sticking  it  into  the  temple,  it  v/as 
tied  into  his  pocket  on  a  dirty  cord,  and  has  been  all 
through  the  war  with  him  —  he  presented  it  to  me.  An- 
other man  gave  me  a  bone  spoon  which  he  found  in  one  of 
the  German  trenches. 

Tuesday,  1 1  p.m. 

Could  not  finish  this  morning —  I  was  so  tired!  At 
5  A.M.,  sitting  over  our  tea,  I  fell  dead  asleep  for  five  min- 
utes. With  every  new  lot  of  patients,  the  first  morning  is 
hard — for  one  does  not  know  how  much  one  has  to  do  in 
the  given  time  from  6  to  8.  There  are  also  the  diets,  and  the 
eggs  to  cook  before  7.1 5.  Sister  Vera  is  a  splendid  trainer 
of  probationers  —  when  you  think  you  have  got  all  you 
can  possibly  do  in  a  given  time,  she  gives  you  something 
more,  and  you  find  you  can  do  that  too!  Having  to  do  is  a 
fine  master.  With  every  new  lot  of  patients,  the  first 
nights  are  very  busy,  as  the  men  are  restless,  and  most  of 
them  have  coughs  also.   They  often  talk  in  their  sleep  — 


40  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

and  last  night,  one  man  kept  shouting,  "  I  see  him  —  I  see 
him!!" 

Am  sitting  out  in  the  ward  as  I  write,  at  the  Head 
Sister's  desk,  between  two  red  screens,  Hstening  for  calls 
and  giving  hot  milk.  The  head  case  I  spoke  of  is  very  bad 
—  he  is  on  my  side  of  the  ward.  He  is  quite  young  —  and 
will  probably  be  blind  in  both  eyes,  for  the  bullet  went  in 
one  eye  and  out  behind  the  other.  He  suffers  terribly  and 
is  completely  unstrung.  He  loves  a  bit  of  fussing  and 
begged  me  to  talk  with  him  this  morning.  We  all  baby 
him  a  lot.  Tonight  he  broke  down  completely  and  sat  up 
in  bed  sobbing,  and  begging  to  have  his  bandage  taken  off. 
He  kept  saying,  "Oh,  God,  help  me  to  bear  my  pain." 
He  had  morphia,  the  dressing  changed,  and  hot  drinks, 
and  I  have  been  waiting  on  him  all  night  long.  Every  few 
minutes  he  sits  up  and  calls  for  me,  and  simply  clings  to 
one's  hand  like  a  baby.  It  wrings  one's  heart  —  for  there 
is  no  chance,  the  doctor  tells  me,  of  his  ever  seeing  daylight 
again  —  and  only  twenty. 

Thursday,  January  7,  191 5 

Colin  B and  I  have  to  make  rounds  every  hour 

all  night:  she  at  nine,  I  at  ten,  she  at  eleven,  and  so  on. 
One  gets  quite  a  ward  memory  —  able  to  come  back  and 
report  to  Sister  Vera  which  ones  out  of  all  the  sixty-seven 
men  are  awake  —  and  why.   I  have  one  half  of  the  ward 


ENGLAND  41 

—  thirty-three  beds  —  and  she  the  other  half.  I  am  in 
charge  also  of  all  the  special  breakfast  diets  for  the  whole 
ward. 

There  is  a  very  interesting  case  on  my  side  of  the  ward 

—  a  great  care  too  —  a  man  with  a  fractured  femur  and 
colitis.  We  now  have  four  fractured  femurs  in  Munsey 
and  they  all  have  the  long  splint  extension  on  their  legs, 
with  weights,  and  the  bed  very  much  tipped  up.  Lots  of 
the  men  have  learned  to  knit  to  pass  the  time  —  and  are 
quite  good  at  the  mufflers. 

\  Don't  despair  of  me,  as  regards  getting  the  opinion  of  the 
men  on  the  war  and  things.  But  you  would  never  believe 
how  impossible  it  is  to  screw  a  general  opinion  out  of  them. 
Their  own  individual  experiences  they  can  tell,  some  more 
than  others,  of  course  —  though  all  need  drawing  out.  1 
have  scarcely  yet  met  a  man  who  could  say  anything  worth 
writing  down  about  things  in  general.  And  the  doctors 
tell  me  that  they  find  it  the  same.  This  is  not  hard  to  un- 
derstand, when  you  realize  that  even  the  officers  don't 
know  what  they  are  doing.  As  for  the  Tommies,  they  have 
no  idea  of  anything  beyond  how  many  miles  they  marched 
in  a  day,  or  how  many  weeks  they  went  without  a  bath, 
or  how  many  hours  they  lay  wounded  before  they  were 
found.  During  our  hours  on  night  duty,  they  are  awake 
only  from  6  to  8  in  the  morning  —  a  period  of  horrible  rush 
for  me.    If  I  ever  do  linger  to  talk  to  one  of  them,  it  is  with 


42  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

a  hunted  feeling  and  one  eye  on  the  clock.  Here  in  Old- 
way,  we  have  no  officers  —  only  the  Tommies. 

I  shall  have  to  stop  now  —  it  is  nearly  3.  My  blind  boy 
is  sleeping  better  tonight,  but  wakes  up  often,  and  each 
time  is  nearly  crying  with  nerves  and  pain,  and  has  to  be 
soothed.  1 1  is  important,  for  the  sake  of  the  other  men,  too, 
that  he  should  not  make  a  noise  and  wake  up  those  who  are 
near  him.  I  give  him  cocoa  and  a  cigarette,  and  have  to 
stay  while  he  smokes  it — as  he  might  set  his  dressing 
alight.  He  clings  to  one's  hand,  and  keeps  murmuring, 
"Thank  you.  Sister." 

Munsey  is  delightful  at  night.  It  is  very  fresh  —  we 
have  the  top  of  every  window  and  the  huge  big  end  door 
open  all  night.  There  are  red  screens  to  shield  the  men 
who  are  near  the  doors,  and  they  all  have  extra  blankets. 
A  corporal,  who  draws  very  cleverly  and  calls  himself 
"  the  untamed  artist,"  has  done  a  sketch  of  me  as  "  fresh- 
air  fiend" — opening  doors  and  windows  —  and  himself 
sitting  up  in  bed  sneezing. 

You  would  not  approve  of  our  chief  diet  these  days  —  it 
is  constantly  pig !  Either  ham,  bacon,  or  sausages  —  until  it 
has  become  a  joke  amongst  us.  I  suppose  it  is  for  economy. 

January  15,  191 5 

Dr.  S did  several  very  interesting  operations, 

giving  Sister  Vera  and  me  permission  to  come  and  see 


ENGLAND  43 

them.  One  was  the  eye  case  of  which  I  have  been  writing, 
you.  One  eye  was  collapsed  and  had  to  be  taken  out,  as 
the  bullet  had  passed  through. 

Dr.  S tells  me  that  the  chance  is  practically  nil 

of  the  hemorrhage  clearing  in  the  other  eye.  The  boy 
does  not  know  the  danger  that  he  may  never  see  again, 
and  I  dread  unspeakably  the  day  when  he  will  have  to 
be  told.  He  is  a  dear  lad  —  only  twenty  —  and  never 
got  even  a  scratch  until  this  bullet  before  Christmas. 
He  nearly  went  mad  for  a  week  in  France  —  and  was 
in  a  terrible  mental  condition  when  he  got  to  us.  We 
have  got  him  ever  so  much  better  now,  and  fairly  quiet. 
He  keeps  saying  in  the  most  pathetic  way,  "I'd  sleep 
if  I  could,  Sister  —  you  know  I  'd  sleep  if  I  could."  He 
is  a  Cockney  and  they  use  the  word  "proper"  in  such 
an  odd  way.  He  constantly  says,  "It's  properly  paining 
me.  Sister,"  and,  "It's  a  proper  bad  eye.  Sister."  He 
used  to  ask  when  he  would  be  able  to  open  the  other  eye, 
but  since  the  operation  he  has  been  too  ill  to  care.  It  was 
very  septic.  Morphia  has  very  little  effect,  and  they  don't 
like  to  give  him  much.  He  was  very  bad  last  night  and 
suffered  terribly.  When  I  was  giving  him  a  drink  of  hot 
cocoa,  he  put  his  poor  head  on  my  shoulder  and  said,  "  I 
wish  I  had  never  seen  the  army,  Sister."  He  has  no  family 
and  his  home  in  London  is  with  the  mother  of  his  sweetheart, 
Violet,  whose  name  is  tattooed  on  his  arm.   I  asked  him  all 


44  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

about  her,  and  four  or  five  days  ago  Violet's  mother  was 
given  a  pass  to  come  down  and  see  him.  It  occurred  to  me 
how  nice  if  Violet  could  come,  too,  to  be  here  for  his  opera- 
tion. I  found  it  was  only  the  expense  which  prevented, 
so  as  Sue  had  just  sent  me  some  money  from  Boston  to  be 
spent  for  the  patients  as  I  thought  best,  I  put  the  matter 
in  the  hands  of  the  Bureau,  and  the  next  afternoon  Violet 
arrived  —  just  eighteen  —  and  exactly  the  quiet,  sweet, 
nice  sort  of  girl  I  hoped  she  would  be,  for  without  his  eyes 
he  will  need  her.  I  asked  him  the  first  night  if  he  were  glad 
to  see  her,  and  he  said,  "  If  I  only  could  see  her.  Sister!" 
I  have  written  Sue  how  much  happiness  the  first  twenty- 
one  shillings  of  her  present  have  given.  They  were  here 
four  days.    Violet  works  in  a  draper's  shop.    Both  were 

most  grateful. 

Some  other  friends  have  also  sent  me  money  for  my 
cases,  and  I  have  been  able  to  help  a  number  of  them,  for 
we  are  by  way  of  hearing  and  knowing  as  no  committee  of 
outsiders  could  possibly  do.  There  are  two  men  going  out 
before  long,  each  of  them  with  a  leg  two  inches  or  so  shorter 
than  the  other.  They  are  anxious  to  have  a  special  boot 
in  order  to  avoid  appearing  lame.  They  need  n't  have 
been  so  lame,  had  we  had  them  straight  from  the  front  — 
but  after  stopping  in  hospitals  in  France  on  the  way,  there 
is  n't  the  same  chance  to  put  them  right.  I  am  going  to 
buy  boots  for  both  of  them.  It  will  mean  a  lot  to  them. 
One  of  them,  poor  fellow,  was  a  jockey! 


ENGLAND  45 

Bob  went  out  in  the  Scots  Guards  and  was  wounded  — 
shot  in  the  face  early  in  January  —  during  a  charge  near 
La  Bassee.  The  other  officers  were  shot  down,  so  he  had  to 
take  command  —  and  he  went  on  until  he  fainted  from 
loss  of  blood.  His  mother  wrote  that  eyes,  nose,  and 
mouth  escaped,  and  later  he  wrote  me  himself  that  soon 
he  should  have  nothing  to  show  for  his  trouble!  In  answer 
to  my  question  what  he  thought  of  the  front,  he  writes, 

"It  is  not  all  jam,  and  for  my  part  I  think  it's 

dangerous!" 

January  2],  igi^.   2.30  a.m. 

A  bad  throat  is  rampaging  here,  and  Matron  is 
nearly  wild  —  she  is  so  short-handed.  I  am  well  and  hope 
to  escape  —  for  I  should  hate  to  break  my  four-months 
record.  The  weather  is  appalling  now  —  constant  rain,  and 
we  get  used  to  going  to  walk  in  the  wet  just  as  if  it  were 
fine  —  otherwise  one  would  never  go  out  at  all! 

Ever  so  many  patients  have  gone  out  —  only  twenty- 
nine  now  in  Munsey  —  but  we  shall  soon  be  filled  up  again. 
Sometimes  a  man  tries  to  fake  illness,  in  order  to  stay 
on.  It  is  called  malingering  —  one  who  went  today  tried 
that,  but  it  was  no  good.  They  succeeded  better  under  the 
English  doctors!  We  got  a  sailor  with  our  last  lot  of 
patients  —  sent  to  us  by  mistake!  —  our  first  sailor  and 
probably  the  last.   They  intended  sending  him  on  to  a 


46  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

naval  hospital,  but  he  made  such  rapid  progress  that  it 
was  n't  worth  while.  He  is  a  most  entertaining  man,  and 
has  a  marvellous  collection  of  war  trophies  from  the  front, 
including  a  Prussian  helmet  which  he  took  from  an  officer 
shot  by  himself.  He  belongs  to  the  little  band  of  seventy  — 
all  gunners  —  chosen  from  a  man-of-war,  to  man  the  naval 
armored  trains  in  Belgium.  That  is  how  a  sailor  happened 
to  be  fighting  on  land  —  and  it  is  the  first  time  it  has 
happened.  His  cap  band  is  very  interesting  for  that  reason 
—  with  the  letters  H.M.N.A.T.  Jellicoe  (His  Majesty's 
Naval  Armored  Train  Jellicoe).  And  he  has  a  medal,  given 
by  the  Belgians,  with  a  picture  of  the  train.  Each  train  is 
composed  of  three  gun  carriages,  two  powder  magazines, 
and  an  engine  at  each  end.  They  run  right  up  to  the  firing- 
line,  and  can  accomplish  a  lot,  beside  being  able  to  get 
away  quickly.  He  has  worked  hard  in  the  ward  —  since 
he  was  better  —  and  is  a  very  handy  man.  Nearly  all 
soldiers  are  —  they  make  beds  and  cook  and  sweep  far 
better  than  many  women  —  they  are  so  neat  and  thorough. 

Sir  William  Osier  was  here  yesterday  inspecting  the 
hospital  and  he  very  kindly  inquired  for  me.    After  dinner 

Dr.  S brought  him  over  to  Munsey  to  see  me.   I  was 

out  in  the  kitchen  teaching  a  new  probationer,  with  my 
sleeves  rolled  up  —  but  flew  to  the  sitting-room  just  as 
I  was. 

One  of  the  most  intelligent  men  in  the  ward  is  a  lad  of 


ENGLAND  47 

twenty,  a  corporal.  He  was  making  a  charge  in  command 
of  thirty  men  when  he  got  shot.  He  talks  most  interest- 
ingly about  the  war  and  things  in  general,  and  voices  the 
British  Tommy  very  well  in  a  general  way.  He  says  they 
are  all  in  sympathy  with  the  war,  and  glad  to  have  a  go 
at  the  Germans.  Also  that  nothing  could  be  better  than 
the  way  in  which  it  is  all  managed.  He  said  they  get  nearly 
as  good  food  at  the  front  as  here  in  the  hospital,  except 
when  actually  in  the  trenches  —  and  even  then  it  is  not 
bad,  although  water  is  often  terribly  scarce.  Also  that  the 
transportation  of  the  wounded  back  from  the  front  is 
wonderfully  done. 

1  asked  a  big  Seaforth  Highlander  whether  he  wanted 
to  go  back.  He  said,  "  I  don't  wish  to  be  like  those  swank- 
ers  who  say  they  want  to  —  I'd  rather  not";  then  he  got 
very  red  and  added  —  "But  I  don't  mind."  They  all 
ridicule  the  idea  of  wanting  to  go  back  —  and  say  no  sane 
man  could.  In  that  respect  this  war  is  different  from  any 
other  there  has  ever  been.  The  men  all  say,  "This  is  n't 
war  —  it's  murder."  Most  of  them  are  very  glad  if  they 
can  be  honorably  discharged  as  physically  unfit. 

January  25,  191 5 
Great  changes  here  —  everybody  has  been  moved 
—  and  I  go  back  to  day  duty  in  Paget  Ward.    I  shall  be 
jorry  to  leave  Munsey,  for  I  have  been  happy  here  and 


48  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

had  some  very  jolly  times.   Dr.  H ,  the  head  of  the 

second  Unit,  said  he  had  never  seen  anything  so  fine  as 
the  way  Sister  Vera  runs  the  ward  and  us  —  such  strict 
discipline  and  work  always  first,  and  yet  we  manage  to 
have  a  good  time. 

You  can't  think  what  it  is  at  night  here  now  —  no  lights 
—  black  —  and  even  the  trams  running  between  Paignton 
and  Torquay  are  dark,  only  a  small  light  the  size  of  a 
bicycle  lamp.  ...  A  terrible  thing  happened  last  night  in 
Torquay  —  a  sentry  challenged  two  Territorial  officers 
driving  a  car.  They  played  the  fool  and  would  not  answer 
properly,  and  he  shot  them.  One  was  killed  and  the  other 
wounded  —  it  makes  us  feel  very  near  the  front. 

Paget  Ward,  January  26 

I  came  on  day  duty  in  Paget  today,  and  think  I 
am  going  to  like  it  well.  There  are  some  interesting  cases. 
One  man  was  hit  by  a  hand  grenade.  He  has  sixty-seven 
wounds  —  all  on  his  head,  his  back,  and  arms.  One  arm 
is  terrible  —  all  the  flesh  gone  —  only  the  two  bones 
left  and  a  hole  between.  The  flesh  is  slowly  growing  in 
around,  but  it  looks  like  the  pictures  of  the  famine  in 
India. 

The  worst  case  in  Paget  —  much  talked  of  —  is  inde- 
scribably awful.  The  man  was  shot  through  the  leg  — 
and  got  the  new  gas  gangrene  germ  just  discovered  at  the 


ENGLAND  49 

front,  and  so  rare  that  they  know  nothing  about  it  yet. 
He  is  one  of  the  first  men  back  in  England  who  has  it.  His 
leg  is  in  an  awful  condition,  pouring  pus.  He  will  probably 
lose  it,  and  they  say  he  may  die  at  any  time.  It  is  dreadful 
to  see  how  he  suffers  when  moved  —  he  screams  with  pain, 
and  it  takes  five  of  us  to  change  his  draw-sheet.  The  stench 
of  his  dressings  fills  even  this  big  ward.  It  is  most  infectious 
and  we  are  more  than  careful. 

There  is  a  priceless  Gobelin  tapestry  on  the  wall  of 
Paget.  It  is  solidly  attached  to  the  back  side  of  David's 
great  painting  of  Napoleon,  which  faces  on  the  stairway. 
Together  they  form  a  curtain  which,  when  Paget  —  the 
ballroom  —  was  used  as  a  theater,  could  be  lowered  into 
the  floor  without  rolling.  The  guests  sat  in  the  marble 
gallery  —  where  we  had  our  Christmas  dinner  —  looking 
across  over  the  grand  staircase  into  Paget,  which  formed 
the  stage. 

February  6,  1 9 1 5 

Your  wire  and  letter  from  Liverpool  received  —  and 
I  am  expecting  you  here  on  the  8th.  I  told  our  one  and  only 
sailor  about  your  narrow  escape  from  German  submarines 
—  and  he  was  thrilled  to  hear  of  the  Baltic  being  protected 
by  eight  destroyers  and  two  dreadnoughts!  He  talked 
most  interestingly  about  submarines  in  the  English  Chan- 
nel.  When  they  see  a  floating  keg  which  seems  to  be  drift- 


50  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

ing  "against  the  wash,"  they  know  that  it  conceals  the 
periscope  of  a  submarine! 

Matron  says  1  may  have  two  weeks  with  you  in  London 
about  February  25.  I  have  just  let  my  cottage  to  Major 
S and  his  wife,  for  a  month  or  two. 

February  13,  1915 

The  operation  done  by  Dr.  S ,  just  after  you  left, 

was  most  interesting.  It  was  the  first  time  that  the  new 
telephone  apparatus  for  locating  bullets  and  metal  sub- 
stances has  been  used  here.  It  is  quite  a  new  thing,  in- 
vented here  in  England  some  years  ago,  but  only  just  per- 
fected for  practical  use.  It  is  simple  to  look  at  —  a  wire 
attached  to  the  instrument,  and  the  operating  doctor  and 
one  other  man  wear  metal  head-bands  with  a  sort  of  tele- 
phone ear-pieces.  When  the  instrument  touches  bone 
there  is  no  sound,  but  when  it  touches  metal  there  is  a  click. 
This  case  which  I  saw  was  a  bullet  deeply  embedded  in  the 
bone  of  a  man's  shoulder  —  and  they  were  able  to  get  it 
out  much  sooner,  and  with  a  much  smaller  incision,  than 
they  otherwise  could.  It  was  most  interesting  to  see  — 
and  four  of  the  American  nurses  were  there  to  watch,  as 
well  as  Sister  Vera  and  myself. 

The  little  Scotchman  is  getting  on  well  —  you  remember 
seeing  him.  No.  13  in  Munsey,  and  that  I  had  written  you 
how  bad  he  had  been.   He  has  been  out  in  a  wheel  chair. 


ENGLAND  51 

I  took  a  photograph  the  other  day  of  the  doctor  doing 
his  dressing,  irrigating  his  leg,  with  a  nurse  at  each  side 
of  his  bed.  He  is  very  proud  of  it  and  wants  numerous 
copies  for  his  friends.  There  is  a  nice  little  fair-haired  boy 
in  Munsey,  only  twenty,  who  came  to  us  packed  in  a 
wooden  frame,  with  a  badly  fractured  leg  and  other 
wounds.  He  was  wounded  and  pinned  down  by  other 
bodies,  and  thinking  he  heard  some  Belgians  coming,  he 
called.  But  they  were  Germans  —  and  they  bayoneted 
him  again  —  giving  him  his  worst  wound.  He  pretended 
to  be  dead  and  they  left  him  —  and  he  lay  from  Tuesday 
to  Friday  before  he  was  found,  with  his  leg  pinned  down, 
and  his  haversack  with  food  within  sight,  but  out  of  reach. 
He  said  he  took  good  care,  before  he  called  again,  that  it 
was  really  Belgians  that  time.  Poor  boy  —  he  was  looking 
forward  to  getting  home  to  see  his  sweetheart,  and  today 
he  had  news  that  she  has  married  somebody  else.  When  I 
saw  him  this  morning  he  was  white  as  death  —  but  pre- 
tending he  did  n't  care. 

February  16,  191 5 

Nearly  a  week  since  you  were  here!  Your  gramo- 
phone is  the  delight  of  Paget  Ward  —  you  could  n't  have 
given  anything  nicer.  It  goes  from  daybreak  to  bedtime, 
and  we  interchange  records  with  the  other  wards. 

I  did  feel  freshened  by  your  visit  here,  and  the  motoring 


52  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

—  and  am  much  looking  forward  to  my  two  weeks  in 
London  with  you.  Matron  says  I  can  go  about  February 
25.  She  thinks  I  have  earned  my  time  oflF  —  and  so  do  I ! 
I  have  been  here  exactly  five  months  yesterday,  and  have 
not  been  off  duty  for  one  hour  through  illness!  Everybody 
is  ill  now  with  bad  colds  and  influenza,  and  my  head  nurse 
is  in  bed. 

My  blind  boy  was  taken  to  London  by  Dr.  S today 

to  see  an  eye  specialist.  I  went  over  to  Munsey  this  morn- 
ing to  say  good-bye  to  him.  Later  he  came  to  Paget,  in 
khaki,  to  say  good-bye  again  —  and  Sister  Scott  photo- 
graphed me  with  him.  Mrs.  Burns  was  very  interested  in 
his  case,  and  if  he  does  not  get  perfectly  all  right  she  is 
going  to  see  that  arrangements  are  made  for  him  for 
life. 

I  have  heard  the  details  about  Major  G being 

wounded.  He  went  out  to  France  as  staff  officer  to  General 
X ,  and  was  sent  with  a  very  important  verbal  mes- 
sage, and  was  badly  shot  in  the  leg  and  thigh.  They  picked 
him  up  for  dead  and  threw  him  on  a  cart  filled  with  bodies. 
Suddenly  he  startled  the  bicycle  riders  beside  the  cart,  by 
sitting  up  and  repeating  aloud  his  message  in  delirium. 
So  they  took  him  to  a  hospital  and  his  father  went 
out  to  bring  him  home.  He  has  been  specially  men- 
tioned in  Sir  John  French's  despatches  and  is  to  get  the 
D.S.O. 


ENGLAND  53 

You  know  that  several  of  the  orderHes  are  Belgian  boys. 
Ours  in  Paget  was  at  the  front,  but  cannot  return  there, 
so  he  and  his  family  came  to  England.  He  is  quite  an  edu- 
cated lad  and  a  splendid  worker.  1  talk  French  with  him, 
to  the  delight  of  his  soul.  Not  long  ago  his  feelings  were 
wounded  inadvertently  by  one  of  the  nurses,  and  for  days 
he  was  in  terrible  distress  —  nearly  ill  over  it.  I  tried  to 
find  out  what  the  matter  was,  knowing  it  could  be  only 
some  misunderstanding,  but  1  could  not  make  him  tell  me. 
He  kept  saying,  "When  a  Belgian  says  no,  it  is  No"  — 
and  1  rather  admired  him  for  his  reserve. 

I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  W ,  who,  as  I  think  I 

told  you,  refused  a  commission  last  autumn  and  joined 
the  ranks.  He  writes  that  his  family  left  him  no  peace 
and  that  he  has  now  accepted  a  commission  in  the  5th 
West  Blanks,  who  are  likely  to  go  abroad  soon.  He  says 
he  loved  the  experience  of  the  ranks,  and  made  many 
friends.  He  was  sorry  to  leave  them  and  said  he  could 
have  fought  beside  them  with  a  stout  heart,  as  what 
they  lacked  in  education  they  made  up  in  nobility  of 
character. 

Another  oflficer  asked  me  the  other  day  why  I  am  glad 
to  nurse  Tommies  rather  than  officers.  1  have  many  rea- 
sons —  but  the  one  I  gave  him  was  that  the  men  are  such 
obedient  patients  —  they  are  taught  to  look  on  the  young- 
est and  most  inexperienced  nurse  as  their  superior  officer, 


54  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

and  obey  her  slightest  word  implicitly.  I  have  heard 
that  officers  when  convalescent  are  most  tiresome,  getting 
up  too  soon,  and  disobeying  orders  generally.   I  know  that 

B got  a  relapse  from  just  that.  Tommy  Atkins  is  very 

easy  to  manage.  The  only  time  I  ever  had  any  difficulty 
was  one  evening  when  I  was  left  in  charge  of  the  ward  for 
a  few  minutes,  as  the  Sisters  had  to  go  to  a  meeting.  It 
was  just  the  men's  bedtime  —  8  p.m.  Some  of  them  were 
in  an  uproarious  mood,  tearing  about  —  some  on  crutches 
—  playing  hide  and  seek,  and  making  a  lot  of  noise.  It  is 
hard  enough  at  best  to  get  them  to  go  to  bed  and  quiet 
down  when  they  are  all  convalescent  —  but  this  time  it 
looked  next  to  impossible.  I  managed  it  by  appealing  to 
their  sense  of  chivalry  —  that  if  they  did  n't,  it  would  get 
me  into  trouble  more  than  them. 

We  were  speaking  of  the  numbers  of  men  wounded  in 
the  eyes  and  forehead  during  the  early  part  of  the  war  — 
and  now  the  new  periscopes  for  the  trenches  are  making 
a  difference.  Only  the  top  shows  over  the  edge  of  the 
trench  —  and  there  are  mirrors  which  reflect  below,  so 
that  the  officers  need  not  put  their  heads  above  the  edge. 
If  the  bullet  hits  the  periscope,  it  only  breaks  the  glass, 
and  they  put  another  in.  These  periscopes  are  not  fur- 
nished by  the  War  Office,  but  are  sent  out  to  the  officers 
by  their  friends. 

Our  fine  big  Seaforth  Highlander  is  miserable  today  — 


ENGLAND  55 

his  uniform  has  come,  and  it  is  not  his  own  kilt,  and  the 
coat  is  far  too  small,  his  great  hands  are  miles  out  of  the 
cuffs!  He  is  six  feet  two,  and  his  name  is  Ronald  Banner- 
man.  He  was  describing  the  different  kilts  to  me  —  the 
Gordon  and  Cameron  Highlanders,  and  the  Black  Watch. 
They  all  wear  khaki  aprons  while  at  the  front.  And  he 
says  that  the  kilt  is  really  more  comfortable  than  trousers 
in  the  trenches  —  and  that  this  war  is  proving  it.  When 
trousers  are  wet  above  the  knee,  the  underclothing  is  wet 
as  well  —  but  the  kilts  don't  touch  them  as  much,  and 
their  knees  dry  off. 

Casey,  our  Irish  lad  with  a  bullet  in  his  brain,  is  not 
right  —  yet  full  of  charm  at  times.  He  is  paralyzed  all 
down  one  side,  but  is  better  now,  and  can  stump  about  the 
ward  with  a  stick.  He  is  difficult  to  manage,  and  when  he 
is  annoying  he  is  unsurpassed!  But  now  I  have  him  in  the 
hollow  of  my  hand  —  for  he  wants  copies  of  photographs 
which  I  have  taken  of  him,  and  of  the  ward.  And  I  have 
made  them  a  reward  for  good  behavior.  He  used  always 
to  refuse  to  go  to  bed  —  but  now  he  goes  like  a  lamb  at 
my  bidding.  If  he  ever  forgets,  I  just  say,  "Oh,  Casey, 
what  a  pity  if  you  don't  get  those  pictures"  —  and  that's 
enough. 

Here  are  verses  which  were  written  by  a  Tommy  and 
copied  in  my  book  for  me  by  No.  26.  He  said  they  had 
been  printed  in  a  local  country  paper:  — 


56  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

LITTLE  AND  CONTEMPTIBLE 

I   used  ter  be  a  "Brickie"  till  I  joined  and  took  the 

bob, 
I  was  reckoned  quite  a  terror  dahn  our  street, 
'Cos  me  fists  were  fairly  useful  wiv  a  rough  and  tumble 

mob. 
Wot  were  n't  averse  ter  scrappin'  wiv  ther  feet. 
An'  the  fellers  in  my  Reg'ment  say  I'm  pretty  useful 

still, 
Tho'  me  fists  is  graspin'  trenchin'  tool  and  gun. 
So  1  've  only  one  ambition  —  ter  meet  Mr.  Kaiser  Bill, 
And  dot  'im  several  wunners  on  the  bun. 

For  I  'm  "  little  and  contemptible"  —  bofe  me  and  Gen'ral 

French, 
It's  official  —  Bill  the  Kaiser  tole  us  so. 

But  you  wait  till  I  'm  in  Berlin, 

Then  you'll  see  'is  whiskers  curlin'  — 
I'm  "little  and  contemptible"  —  Wot  'o! 

It's  true  I  've  never  'ad  the  chaunce  o'  sneakin'  any  loot, 

And  1  don't  suppose  1  'd  do  it  if  I  could. 

(You  can  larf)  but  on  me  savy,  tho'  I  looks  an  'ulkin' 

brute  — 
They  never  seen  me  pinchin'  fmgs  —  (touch  wood!) 


ENGLAND  57 

An'  1  never  fired  a  Church,  shot  a  woman,  nor  a  kid, 

Nor  stuck  a  wounded  soldier  from  behind. 

So  I   dessay  Bilham's  right  — caliin'  me  the  names  'e 

does  — 
An'  of  all  the  lot  there's  only  two  I  mind. 

I'm  "little  and  contemptible"  —  bofe  me  and  Gen'ral 

French, 
But  love-a-duck  it  puzzles  me  ter  see, 

'E  says  'e's  Gawd's  anointed. 

But  it  sounds  a  bit  disjointed  — 
U  I'm  "little  and  contemptible,"  wot's  'e! 

Oldway  House,  Paignton 
March  17,  1915 

When  I  got  back  from  London  on  Sunday  afternoon 
at  3,  1  found  a  new  lot  of  patients  just  arriving,  so  1  went 
to  Matron  and  volunteered  to  go  on  duty  at  once  —  instead 
of  the  next  morning.  And  at  4  o'clock  I  was  back  in  Paget 
helping  to  install  a  new  lot  of  tired  and  dirty  men. 
There  are  several  changes  here  —  a  new  probationer 

whom  I  am  training  in,  and  Dr.  H back  here  for  a  short 

time,  although  returning  soon  to  Belgium  for  good.    Dr. 

R left  yesterday  for  Pau.  Sister  Vera  has  written  to  the 

War  Office,  and  received  her  papers  to  fill  out.  By  the  way, 
we  have  got  to  be  inoculated  here  for  enteric,  or  else  we 


58  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

shall  not  be  allowed  near  a  typhoid  case.  So  I  have  put 
my  name  down,  and  it  will  be  already  done  if  I  do  get  a 
chance  to  go  abroad. 

March  20,  191 5 

Edwardes,  the  gangrenous  germ  case,  returned  to 
us  in  Paget  a  few  days  ago  —  ever  so  much  better,  and 
looking  a  diflFerent  creature.  But  he  had  been  through  so 
much  that  his  nerves  were  all  to  bits  —  he  still  shrieked 
when  moved,  and  made  a  fearful  fuss  over  his  dressings, 
shaking  all  over  and  crying.  Returning  to  a  big  ward  after 
being  so  long  alone  has  taken  him  out  of  himself,  and  he  is 
quieting  down  in  spite  of  himself.  In  that  way  he  is  not  at 
all  like  a  typical  Tommy,  who  generally  dislikes  special 
fuss  and  attention,  and  is  very  glad  to  become  one  of  the 
common  herd  again.  When  Mudie  was  so  bad,  we  thought 
he  would  perhaps  go  on  being  troublesome  and  demand 
continued  attention;  but  not  a  bit  of  it,  he  has  been  de- 
lighted to  get  up  and  about.  As  soon  as  he  possibly  could, 
he  was  out  in  the  kitchen  carrying  plates  for  newcomers, 
and  he  is  dear  with  Edwardes,  so  kind  and  thoughtful  of 
him.  We  put  Edwardes  next  to  him,  for  the  sake  of  the 
stimulating  moral  effect  that  he  would  have  on  him. 

Our  Gobelin  tapestry  is  covered  over  with  green  baize 
again.  1  hear  that  some  of  the  men  lying  opposite  objected 
to  looking  at  it  all  day  —  so  much  for  the  Tommies'  ap- 


ENGLAND  59 

preciation  of  Art!  I  imagine,  however,  that  it  was  covered 

for  hygienic  reasons  —  being  such  a  dust  and  germ  collector. 

Matron  is  giving  to  us  four  senior  probationers  blue  and 

white  stripes  for  our  left  arms,  to  show  that  we  have  been 

here  six  months. 

March  23,  191 5 

Lady  B was  here  and  asked  me  what  your  im- 
pressions are  now  of  work  in  London.  1  told  her  that  you 
very  soon  found  that  the  Belgians'  need  faded  to  insignifi- 
cance compared  with  the  awful  need  of  the  Serbians.  I 
am  giving  up  my  hope  of  going  to  Serbia.  H.  has  written 
that  1  simply  must  not  think  of  it  —  and  I  am  hoping  now 
for  Belgium,  and  am  trying  for  a  post  in  Dr.  Depage's 
hospital  at  La  Panne,  on  the  coast,  twenty  minutes  from 
the  firing-line.  They  have  three  hundred  beds  now,  and 
must  have  twelve  hundred  by  summer.  There  are  diffi- 
culties about  getting  into  Belgium  —  and  it  was  nice  of 
Mr.  Page  to  write  that  the  Embassy  will  help  in  any  way 
it  can.   it  is  useful  to  carry  as  many  letters  as  possible. 

March  31,  1915 

Yesterday  afternoon  we  got  in  a  new  lot  of  patients. 

nearly  a  hundred.    Almost  all  of  them  are  from  Neuve 

Chapelle,  and  some  are  very  bad.    We  all  worked  like 

mad,  so  glad  for  real  work  again,  and  big  dressings. 

A  terrible  case  among  ours  in  Paget  is  a  man  whose 


6o  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

teeth,  lower  lip,  and  chin  are  shot  entirely  away.  The  jaw 
bone  is  fractured,  what  remains  of  it,  and  he  can't  eat  or 
speak  —  we  feed  him  through  a  long  tube.  He  is  on  the 
dangerous  list.  He  is  so  patient,  and  tries  to  talk  with  his 
eyes  —  like  a  dumb  animal. 

There  are  many  wounded  by  hand  grenades,  which  are 
being  used  so  much  now.  The  men  tell  us  that  the  Germans 
throw  them  at  the  rate  of  thirty-five  a  minute.  They  say 
that  there  are  men  about  them  —  and  then  suddenly  the 
air  is  full  of  arms  and  legs  —  and  there  is  no  one  there. 
The  doctors  find  gramophone  needles  and  broken  scissors 
in  the  wounds. 

The  men  tell  us  of  their  friendly  feeling  for  individual 
Germans.  The  trenches  are  so  near  that  they  can  speak 
across.  Our  men  ask,  "Which  are  you?"  —  and  the  an- 
swer sometimes  may  be,  "We're  the  Saxons  —  we  don't 
want  to  fight."  And  they  make  signs  —  "  Don't  shoot  and 
we  won't!"  Some  of  the  last  men  tell  us  that  they  were 
wounded  by  the  English,  who  mistook  them  for  Germans 
after  they  had  taken  some  German  trenches.  They  said 
that  it  was  rather  hard  to  be  shot  by  their  own  friends. 

Nothing  is  so  marvellous  as  the  cheerfulness  of  the  fight- 
ing men  —  in  spite  of  the  scarcity  of  ammunition.  They 
have  names  for  all  the  difl'erent  kinds  of  shells  —  "Artful 
Archibald,"  "Whistling  Rufus,"  "Morbid  Montmorency," 
etc.,  etc. 


ENGLAND  6i 

We  had  our  second  inoculation  last  night  —  an  incon- 
venient time,  as  we  don't  want  lame  arms  the  next  day  or 
two!  The  second  dose  is  double  the  first  —  the  third  is  the 
same  as  the  second.  Mine  is  taking,  but  I  have  worked  like 
a  galley  slave  all  day,  and  not  been  troubled  by  it.  My  feet 
are  awfully  bad  —  Paget  floor  is  most  trying,  being  the 
ballroom.  Last  night  and  tonight  1  did  n't  know  how  to 
hobble  to  Fernham,  when  1  came  off  duty. 

April  3,  191 5 

Sir  William  Osier  came  in  to  examine  two  lung  cases. 
I  was  very  glad  of  the  chance  to  see  him  make  an  examina- 
tion —  he  is  wonderful.  He  told  me  that  our  lung  cases, 
with  the  bullets  still  in,  are  unusually  interesting  —  1  don't 
know  enough  about  it  to  understand  why! 

Matron  was  awfully  nice  when  I  told  her  that  I  wanted 
to  go  to  Belgium,  and  said  that  she  would  take  me  back 
here  at  any  time.  She  wants  me  to  stay  until  the  18th,  as 
there  is  no  senior  probationer  available  to  replace  me  in 

Paget,  until  N returns  from  her  week's  holiday.   As 

there  are  only  two  trained  nurses  in  Paget  for  the  future, 
they  depend  a  great  deal  more  on  the  senior  probationers. 

Mrs.  T has  written  me  a  charming  letter  enclosing 

a  draft  for  the  men  —  it  was  so  good  of  her.  The  money 
has  come  at  just  the  right  time,  now  that  we  have  so  many 
needy  and  badly  wounded  patients. 


62  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

April  7,  191 5.  10  P.M. 
I  saw  two  operations  today  —  a  hernia  case,  where 
^ivo  cuts  several  inches  long  were  made  in  the  abdomen  — 
very  interesting.  And  then  an  appendix.  They  operated, 
not  knowing  just  what  to  expect,  and  found  all  sorts  of 
trouble.  He  was  under  the  anaesthetic  three  hours,  and 
did  not  stand  it  at  all  well.  They  brought  him  back  to 
Paget  in  a  critical  condition  and  he  had  to  be  given  oxygen. 
Matron  went  to  Sister  Vera's  room  at  7  to  ask  if  she 
would  "special"  him  through  the  night,  saying  that  al- 
though there  were  plenty  to  choose  from,  she  would  rather 
have  her  do  it  than  anybody  —  as  it  was  so  critical  and 
she  wanted  some  one  whose  head  was  "absolutely  bal- 
anced." A  great  compliment  to  Sister  Vera,  was  n't  it?  — 
and  she  was  very  glad  to  do  it.  She  was  like  a  war  horse 
scenting  battle!  She  had  been  on  duty  nearly  all  day,  and 
had  no  sleep  —  but  did  n't  care  a  rap  —  as  of  course  no 
good  nurse  would. 

April  8 

He  is  all  right  this  morning,  good  color,  and  every- 
thing as  it  should  be. 

Aunt  K has  just  sent  me  another  five  pounds  for 

the  men  —  and  1  am  delighted.  The  first  I  have  been  spend- 
ing for  their  teeth  —  and  for  crutches.  The  Government 
does  not  provide  teeth,  and  the  men  are  so  grateful  to  have 


ENGLAND  63 

them  given,  for  they  take  a  certain  pride  in  their  appear- 
ance. There  are  at  least  half  a  dozen  cases  still  waiting  for 
glass  eyes.  One  is  the  man  in  Paget  of  whom  1  wrote  —  with 
the  eye  gone,  and  a  fractured  wrist,  and  a  rib  wound  now 
healed.  He  lost  three  front  teeth  also,  and  the  other  day  he 
told  me  that  he  almost  minded  about  his  teeth  the  most  of 
all.  I  want  him  to  be  put  right  —  and  as  1  am  leaving  so 
soon,  1  am  arranging  with  Matron  to  use  the  remaining 
money  for  those  cases  1  speak  of  and  others  of  the  same 
sort.  When  Colman,  the  jaw  case,  is  healed  up  he  will 
need  to  be  thoroughly  overhauled  by  a  dentist.  1  told  hira 
today  that  an  American  lady  was  going  to  have  it  done 
for  him.  He  was  so  pleased,  and  even  achieved  a  faint 
smile! 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  I  am  going  so 
soon  —  and  a  great  wrench  it  will  be.  1  could  not  tear  my- 
self away  for  anywhere  except  Belgium  or  France  —  have 
been  here  seven  months  on  Thursday.  1  dread  saying  good- 
bye to  the  men.  Today  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Edwardes 
—  and  he  has  written  a  delightful  account  in  my  book  of 
his  time  at  the  front.  One  thing  I  think  unusually  inter- 
esting—  that  while  at  Ypres  —  in  the  trenches  —  the 
Germans  were  so  near  that  he  could  hear  distinctly  the 
officers  trying  to  make  the  men  charge,  shouting,  "Vor- 
warts!"  —  and  the  men  refusing,  "Nein!  Nein!"  I  told 
Edwardes  that  I  was  going  to  Belgium  —  he  looked  very 


64  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

sorry,  and  said  that  he  thought  I  should  soon  wish  myself 
back! 

I  shall  be  staying  only  a  few  days  longer.   Expect  me  in 
London  the  12th,  and  I  hope  to  get  to  Belgium  soon. 

Much  love  — 

Mary. 

London,  May  1,  1915 

Dearest  Aunt  K 

It  is  very  wearisome  waiting  to  be  sent  to  La  Panne, 
but  the  shelling  of  Dunkirk  does  not  bode  well  for  our 
speedy  departure.  We  simply  have  to  wait  from  day  to 
day,  ready  to  start  at  short  notice.  The  American  Red 
Cross  doctors  and  nurses  — of  the  two  new  Units,  just 
arrived  from  America  —  are  waiting  also  in  London.  La 
Panne  is  at  present  under  shell  fire  —  the  King  and  Queen 
have  been  headquartering  there,  an  added  reason,  I  sup- 
pose, for  the  Germans  to  try  to  demolish  it.  But  I  hear 
that  just  now  they  have  been  too  near  La  Panne  to  be  able 
to  get  so  short  a  range,  and  Dunkirk  as  you  know  has  been 
the  victim.   Many  hospitals  there  are  being  evacuated. 

In  the  meantime,  I  have  been  rather  enjoying  some  free 
time  here  in  London  —  also  getting  my  new  uniforms  for 
La  Panne,  and  the  odds  and  ends  necessary  for  the  war 
zone.  The  uniform  is  of  dark  blue,  and  we  wear  white 
army  caps.  In  order  to  get  my  certificate  I  had  to  take  an 


ENGLAND  65 

oral  examination  —  in  French  —  before  five  Belgian  doc- 
tors. A  very  trying  ordeal,  for  it  was  really  a  stiff  examina- 
tion, with  questions  which  would  be,  as  Sister  Vera  said 
afterward,  asked  of  trained  nurses  in  their  third  year.  But 
I  got  through  somehow,  and  am  now  the  proud  possessor 
of  a  certificate  giving  me  "le  droit  deme  mettre  au  service 
de  la  Croix  Rouge  de  Belgique  en  qualite  d'infirmiere," 
signed  by  all  the  doctors. 

May  8,  191 5 

Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  Deptford,  opposite  Green- 
wich on  the  river,  to  the  big  cattle  market  which  the  Gov- 
ernment is  now  using  for  military  work  of  all  kinds.  We 
went  especially  to  visit  the  department  where  all  the  Emer- 
gency Rations  for  the  whole  British  Army  are  packed  — 
little  tin  boxes,  with  biscuits  and  tea  and  sugar  and  cubes 
of  Ovo  —  which  the  men  take  into  the  trenches  with  them. 

Lady  Kathleen  L is  running  it  with  marvellous  system 

and  success.  She  has  reduced  expenses  for  the  Govern- 
ment, and  at  the  same  time  increased  the  output,  until 
now  she  has  on  hand  a  large  reserve  of  the  "Iron  Rations," 
as  they  are  called.  It  was  most  interesting,  and  we  were 
there  the  whole  morning.  She  lives  there  —  inside  —  her 
brother  being  one  of  the  officers  in  command  of  the  Gov- 
ernment works.  Their  quarters  are  in  two  quaint  old 
seventeenth  century  houses,  and  their  mess  looks  out  on 


66  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Evelyn's  old  garden  —  which  would  interest  you  very 
much.  His  house  has  disappeared.  Peter  the  Great  learned 
his  trade  there  in  the  dockyard. 

There  were  nine  hundred  girls  in  the  Emergency  Rations 
Department,  and  they  did  Princess  Mary's  Christmas 
present  for  the  Army  —  a  gilt  box  containing  tobacco  and 
a  pipe  and  a  Christmas  card,  etc.,  with  her  picture  on  the 
lid.  The  Queen  and  Princess  Mary  came  out  to  see  it  done, 
and  enjoyed  themselves  very  much,  sending  the  different 
articles  along  on  the  trolleys,  and  packing  a  box  each. 

Lady  K and  the  others  were  wondering  whether  the 

men  really  liked  the  boxes  well  enough  to  pay  for  all  the 
trouble  and  expense,  but  I  said  that  I  knew  they  did.  At 
Paignton  our  men  treasured  them  long  after  the  contents 
were  gone,  and  used  to  send  the  empty  boxes  home  to  their 
wives  or  keep  them  carefully  in  their  lockers. 

May  28,  191 5 

The  Committee  for  the  Belgian  Refugee  Fund, 
which  distributes  food  all  over  London  and  the  neighbor- 
hood, offered  me  a  job  to  drive  a  motor-van  for  them  to 
carry  food  to  Belgian  hostels  and  families.  And  now  1  have 
got  a  little  second-hand  runabout  of  my  own,  about  thirty 
horse-power,  to  use  in  that  work  —  while  I  am  waiting  in 
London,  to  get  out  to  Belgium.  Here  is  a  post-card  of  it 
and  me.  At  first  a  trouble  in  the  magneto  made  it  almost 


z 

c 
c 
z 

o 


ENGLAND  67 

impossible  to  crank  —  and  I  sometimes  had  to  get  taxi- 
drivers  to  crank  it  for  me,  and  even  they  often  could  n't 
without  great  difficulty!  .  .  .  i  drove  Mrs.  Parker  one 
afternoon  to  the  Park  for  a  review  of  six  thousand  volun- 
teers from  the  different  districts  of  London,  with  Sir 
Francis  Lloyd  on  horseback  reviewing  the  procession.  A 
policeman  let  us  inside  the  enclosure  —  the  only  car  —  on 
account  of  her  being  Lord  Kitchener's  sister.  I  had  to  stop 
my  engine  on  account  of  the  noise  —  and  when  the  review 
was  over  the  fat  Chief  Constable  undertook  to  crank  it. 
You  can  judge  of  his  difficulties  by  the  fact  that  when  he 
finally  succeeded,  the  crowd  outside  all  cheered!  Mrs.  P. 
was  much  amused. 

I  was  delighted  to  receive  money  from  Mrs.  H to  be 

used  for  my  wounded,  and  today  came  five  pounds  from 
Newport,  given  by  a  friend  of  Mrs.  B . 

June  18,  191 5 

I  have  just  had  a  wire  from  S ,  her  favorite  nephew 

Jack  killed  in  action  in  the  Dardanelles,  and  I  am  going 
down  this  afternoon.  It  is  so  awful  now  —  every  one  has 
lost  some  one.  But  the  English  women  are  wonderful  — 
you  can't  think  how  brave  they  are  —  it  is  their  faces  that 
show! 

Colin  B has  gone  out  to  France  with  the  St.  John's 

Ambulance  Corps,   and  writes  me  from   Staples,  near 


68  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Boulogne,  where  she  is  living  in  tents.  I  only  know  where 
she  is  because  we  had  agreed,  if  she  were  at  Boulogne,  she 
would  mention  "Bob"  as  having  seen  her  off  —  if  at 
Wimereux  "William"  would  have  been  the  one  —  or  at 
Staples,  "Edward"! 

I  am  off  to  Belgium  next  week.  I  despaired  of  ever  get- 
ting there,  and  had  applied  for  another  job,  deciding  to 
take  the  first  thing  that  offered.  Then  the  French,  British, 
and  Belgian  Red  Crosses  all  sent  for  me  within  twenty-four 
hours !  One  wanted  me  to  go  immediately  to  the  South  of 

France  to  the  Vicomtesse  de  la  P 's  chateau  near  Ville- 

franche,  which  is  being  turned  by  the  French  Government 
into  a  three-hundred-bed  hospital.  The  second  was  to  go 
with  three  others  to  Nevers  to  replace  fully  trained  nurses 
in  one  of  Dr.  H.  G 's  hospitals.  Of  course  I  chose  Bel- 
gium, as  it  is  the  front. 

We  met  Dr.  Hector  Munro  lately  —  also  Mrs.  Knocker^ 

and  Mr.  G ,  members  of  his  Motor  Ambulance  Corps 

—  and  have  been  seeing  a  lot  of  him  this  last  week.  He 
has  been  awfully  kind,  and  is  taking  no  end  of  trouble  to 
get  me  out  there.  He  believes  in  women  being  near,  and 
says  that  men  are  dying  daily  for  the  lack  of  women 
to  nurse  them.  Also  that  men  orderlies  cannot  fill  their 
place — but  the  British  Government  is  immovable  on  the 

*  Now  Baroness  T'Serclaes,  author  of  The  Cellar-house  of  Pervyse. 
(Editor's  Note.) 


ENGLAND  69 

subject.  You  have  surely  heard  of  Dr.  Hector  Munro  and 
his  corps  of  half  a  dozen  men  and  four  girls,  which  he 
took  out  to  Belgium  as  soon  as  the  war  started.  Lady 
Dorothy  Feilding,  Cecil  Dormer's  sister-in-law,  was  one  of 
the  four.  They  were  decorated  by  King  Albert,  and  there 
has  been  more  or  less  about  them  in  the  papers.  They  are 
the  only  women  allowed  so  near  the  firing-line  —  and  they 
go  practically  into  the  trenches  to  pick  up  wounded. 

Another  chance  1  might  take  —  which  I  forgot  to  men- 
tion —  is  to  work  under  Mrs.  Innes-Taylor.  She  is  organ- 
izing a  big  scheme  for  feeding  the  Belgian  population  — 
driving  a  car,  however,  not  nursing. 

The  other  night  while  staying  with  R.  in  Lindfield  we 
motored  up  for  dinner  and  a  play,  and  supper  after.  We 
never  left  London  until  quarter  to  one  to  motor  a  two- 
hours  run  to  Sussex.  We  were  held  up  suddenly  by  patrols 
as  we  were  tearing  along  —  they  bellowed  "Halt!"  and 
chased  after  us,  six  of  them,  and  we  expected  to  be  shot 
any  minute!  We  had  to  tell  where  we  came  from  and  where 
we  were  going  —  and  it  was  quite  like  a  pre-Victorian  high- 
way robbery,  with  dark,  glowering  faces  peering  in  at  us. 

June  26,  1915 

I  am  off  on  the  28th  —  wish  me  luck! 

Much  love, 

Mary. 


II.  BELGIUM 


Ambulance  Jeanne  d'Arc,  Calais 
June  28,  1915,  4  P.M. 

Dearest  little  Mother:  — 

Here  I  am,  safely  over  —  after  a  rough  crossing. 
There  were  only  a  dozen  soldiers  on  board  —  British  and 
Belgian  —  returning  to  the  front  —  and  I  was  the  only 
woman.  The/z<s5  to  get  off  from  Folkestone,  —  armed  with 
passport  —  and  forty  permits  and  passes  for  going  through 
the  Belgian  lines! 

Calais  is  so  much  more  "different"  than  England  — 
everything  very  warlike  and  deserted.  Very  few  women 
about,  and  the  streets  desolation,  and  scarcely  a  man  out 
of  uniform.  The  dear  old  Tommies  make  one  feel  at  home. 
I  could  n't  get  a  cab  at  the  pier,  so  walked,  with  a  porter 
carrying  my  bag,  to  the  Place  d'Armes  —  where  I  got  a 
cab  and  drove  here.  Calais  is  so  picturesque,  with  the  old 
cobblestone  and  winding  streets.  My  orders  were  to  re- 
port here  and  wait  for  one  of  the  La  Panne  cars  to  pick 
me  up.   La  Panne  is  a  two-hours  run  from  here. 

This  hospital  seems  quite  large,  and  I  am  writing  in 
somebody's  office  —  looking  out  on  a  big  courtyard  with 
lots  of  ivy.  I  am  glad  I  speak  French,  as  it  makes  things 
easier.  I  have  had  to  go  to  get  my  permit  vised  again,  in 
order  to  pass  the  Belgian  lines,  but  I  think  that  this  is  the 


74  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

last  time.  No  more  postage  stamps  for  me!  But  instead  of 
"On  Active  Service"  one  puts  "S.M.,"  which  means 
"Service  Militaire."  Most  of  the  motors  have  it  on  them 
also  —  those  which  have  been  commandeered.  This  is  the 
War  Zone  all  right. 

Ambulance  de  I'Ocean,  La  Panne, 

June  30,  1 9 1 5 

This  is  just  to  say  I  arrived  safely,  and  love  it  —  so 
glad  1  came.  It  is  the  FRONT.  1  shall  always  be  glad  that 
I  came  alone!  The  nurses  gasped  when  they  heard  that  I 
traveled  all  the  way  without  any  one.  I  never  got  here  till 
nearly  midnight,  and  was  so  dead  tired  and  so  covered 
with  dust,  that  1  did  not  care  whether  1  lived  or  died.  You 
will  have  got  my  letter  from  Calais  written  while  waiting 
for  the  motor,  which  did  not  come  until  a  quarter  to  eight 
—  and  then  turned  out  to  be  five  enormous  gray  Belgian 
Field  Service  Ambulances.  They  had  been  at  Ypres  and 
other  places  near  the  front,  to  collect  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  little  Belgian  children  who  are  being  sent  by 
the  Queen  of  Belgium  to  schools  in  France.  They  were  to 
spend  the  night  at  the  hospital  in  Calais,  and  go  on  the 
next  day  by  train.  You  should  have  seen  the  poor  little 
tots  swarming  in  the  courtyard,  having  their  faces  and 
hands  washed  before  going  in  to  their  supper  —  looking  so 
tired  and  frightened.    I  had  supper  with  the  nurses  — 


PORTRAIT  OF  A  LIFE-PRESERVER 


BELGIUM  75 

hunks  of  brown  bread  and  butter,  and  cold  boiled  potatoes, 
and  beer.  And  when  one  of  them  discovered  that  1  had  had 
nothing  since  that  morning,  she  ran  and  brought  cold  meat 
for  me. 

This  was  at  8  o'clock,  and  soon  after  8.30  we  started  — 
a  solemn  procession  of  big  gray  monsters.  We  got  quite  a 
few  cheers  as  we  passed  through  Calais.  The  chauffeurs 
had  put  me  and  my  luggage  in  the  back  of  the  biggest  am- 
bulance, and  I  was  like  a  little  pea  rattling  about  in  a  very 
large  pod,  for  when  we  got  out  into  the  country  we  went 
very  fast.  My  kit-bag  and  other  luggage,  which  started 
on  the  seat,  were  soon  on  the  floor.  And  the  dust ! !  1 
would  n't  have  the  big  canvas  curtains  down,  for  1  wanted 
to  see  the  country  —  and  it  just  poured  in  at  the  back. 

We  were  held  up  frequently  by  sentries,  who  looked  at 
my  papers  by  flickering  lantern  light.  At  the  Belgian  lines 
they  took  them  away  —  but  brought  them  back  and  took 
off  their  hats  with  a  flourish.  The  chauffeur  said  we  came 
through  Dunkirk,  and  I  was  watching  out  for  it,  but  one 
could  not  know  there  was  any  town  there  at  all  —  it  was 
absolutely  dark  —  not  a  light  to  be  seen. 

We  finally  got  to  La  Panne  after  1 1 .30,  and  drew  up  at 
the  door  of  the  Ambulance  de  I'Ocean  —  just  a  mass  of 
buildings  looming  in  the  dark,  on  all  sides.  The  night 
nurses  wanted  me  to  wait  the  few  intervening  minutes 
before  their  supper,  but  I  was  more  tired  than  hungry. 


76  •    IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

They  gave  me  a  temporary  room  —  and  by  midnight  I 
was  in  bed  and  asleep. 

The  work  is  very  hard  here,  and  most  interesting.  The 
hospital  is  a  big  summer  hotel  on  the  sands,  helped  out  by 
a  lot  of  tin-roofed  pavilions  —  mushroom  growths  which 
are  divided  into  two  big  wards  each.  Each  ward  holds  one 
hundred  and  twenty  beds.  I  am  in  Pavilion  Everyman  — 
and  have  been  given  twenty  beds  of  my  own  to  be  respon- 
sible for.  Also  one  helps  with  dressings  all  over  the  ward. 

One  never  stops  —  there  are  no  chairs,  and  if  there  were 
they  would  be  utterly  superfluous.  There  is  a  theatre  be- 
tween the  two  wards,  with  four  operating-tables.  And  it  is 
one  ceaseless  round  of  operations  —  the  brancardiers  (or- 
derlies) bringing  in  one  case,  fetching  him  out,  carrying  in 
the  next  —  without  stopping  —  all  the  mornings  and  most 
of  the  afternoons.  I  have  already  been  sent  in  with  several 
patients.  The  four  tables  are  going  hard  all  the  time  —  and 
such  cases!  If  one  sat  down  and  thought  it  would  be  un- 
bearable, but  one  never  thinks  —  it  is  the  only  way.   Dr. 

H and  Dr.  F are  here,  and  were  glad  to  see  some 

one  from  Oldway.  They  both  have  cases  in  B.  Ward, 
where  I  am. 

I  was  sent  on  duty  early  the  morning  after  I  arrived ! 
Some  of  the  nurses  told  me  that  they  had  the  chance  to 
rest  a  night  at  Dunkirk  on  the  way  —  they  were  in  luck! 

One  of  my  men  had  a  big  operation  yesterday,  and  was 


BELGIUM  77 

very  ill  — we  slaved  over  him  and  today  he  is  better.  The 
doctor  tells  me  that  he  is  to  be  court-martialed  as  soon  as 
he  is  able,  for  dropping  a  bomb  purposely,  and  killing  and 
wounding  some  men.  His  own  wounds  are  almost  punish- 
ment enough,  but  if  it  is  proved,  he  will  be  shot.  I  felt 
quite  ill  over  it,  and  I  hope  they  won't  prove  him  to  have 
done  it  intentionally.  I  can't  help  grudging  all  the  good 
gauze  being  used  on  him  if  he  is  getting  well  only  to  be 
shot!  Dressings  are  not  plentiful  here. 
One  of  the  nurses  —  a  Scotch  girl  —  is  a  cousin  of  Dr. 

S and  asked  if  I  had  known  him  at  Oldway.   She  is 

like  me,  half  trained,  but  we  are  all  called  Sisters  here,  and 
treated  all  more  or  less  alike.  There  are  no  real  probation- 
ers. The  food  seems  rather  poor,  but  one  gets  plenty.  The 
dining-room  opens  onto  the  beach,  and  the  view  is  lovely. 
The  nurses  all  sleep  in  villas  close  by  the  hospital  buildings, 
and  1  am  in  the  Villa  Pax  (!)  facing  the  beach  —  with  a 
lovely  room  on  the  fourth  floor  overlooking  the  sea.  At  high 
tide  the  water  is  right  up  under  the  windows,  and  at  low 
tide  nearly  half  a  mile  out.  We  get  gorgeous  sunsets.  My 
only  room-mate  at  present  is  a  Danish  nurse  —  I  have  n't 
yet  mastered  her  name.  Mercifully  she  never  bothers  me 
by  talking.  We  are  a  polyglot  crowd  —  Belgian,  French, 
Danish,  English,  Scotch,  American,  Canadian  —  and  very 
likely  others.  This  is  only  my  second  day,  and  I  have 
yet  much  to  discover.    1  have  n't  half  seen  the  hospital 


78  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

yet  —  there  are  endless  wards,  springing  up  on  all  sides. 
Our  patients  do  not  come  in,  of  course,  a  lot  at  a  time  — as 
at  Oldway,  or  hospitals  farther  from  the  front.  The  am- 
bulances bring  them  in  threes  and  fours,  and  they  get  here 
generally  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  after  they  are  wounded. 
Six  came  in  last  night,  two  very  bad  who  died. 

At  the  present  moment  there  is  no  firing  going  on  —  they 
say  there  is  often  a  lull  of  a  few  days.  It  is  quite  easy  to 
see  the  flashes  at  the  firing-line  at  night  from  here,  they 
tell  me.  Every  evening  four  gunboats  come  on  guard,  some 
distance  out  at  sea  —  we  can  see  them  and  their  funnels 
distinctly.  The  whole  place  is  under  strict  military  dis- 
cipline —  sentries  everywhere. 

I  was  never  before  so  glad  of  my  French.  Some  of  the 
doctors  and  nurses  don't  speak  any,  and  it  is  a  bore  for 
them.  Most  of  the  patients  speak  French  —  except  a  few 
Flamands  —  and  they  understand.  I  have  met  only  one 
so  far  who  does  n't. 

I  lie  down  in  my  off  time,  which  is  only  two  hours.  My 
room  is  a  joy,  with  its  lovely  view,  but  the  soldiers  drilling 
and  bathing  on  the  beach  keep  up  a  continual  racket.  The 
Belgians  have  been  put  into  khaki  only  three  days  ago  — 
and  they  love  it,  and  fancy  themselves  very  British! 

There  is  an  Australian  here  who  was  one  of  Sister  Vera's 
probationers  out  in  Australia.  I  was  so  amused  at  hearing 
this,  and  said  that  I  too  had  been  her  probationer  —  and 


BELGIUM  79 

we  both  laughed!  She  admitted  that  she  also  had  been  run 
about,  and  1  told  her  our  joke  in  Munsey,  about  all  Sister 
V.'s  probationers  having  to  learn  the  "Munsey  glide"! 
Better  put  the  Depage  name  on  all  letters  —  it  is  so 
well  known,  and  means  much  more  than  "Ambulance  de 
rOcean."  On  the  passport  they  call  it  "  I'Hopital  Depage." 

July  I,  191 5 

An  aeroplane  passed  very  near  my  window  —  so 
near  that  it  sounded  almost  in  the  room.  They  are  con- 
stantly overhead,  and  often  we  hear  the  Germans  firing 
at  them.  This  morning  there  were  big  guns  going,  i  said 
to  a  man  I  was  bandaging,  "  Est-ce  la  guerre  ou  la  pra- 
tique?" —  and  he  said,  "Oh,  c'est  bien  la  guerre." 

I  went  out  with  two  other  nurses  last  evening  for  the 
first  time.  I  have  been  too  tired  up  to  now.  We  went  to 
the  little  village  to  find  postcards.  The  street  was  crammed 
with  soldiers  who  stare,  but  are  perfectly  polite.  We  are 
not  allowed  to  wear  anything  but  uniform,  and  may  not 
ever  go  out  alone.  The  beach  is  fenced  in  along  the  front 
of  the  hospital  and  our  villas,  with  sentries  guarding  every 
entrance,  but  we  can  go  out  and  walk  where  we  like  —  only 
never  alone.  I  hope  later  when  my  feet  are  better,  to  see 
some  of  the  country.  They  are  tightly  bandaged,  and  that 
helps.  I  could  n't  keep  going  without  —  they  were  awful 
at  first.  We  don't  know  what  it  is  to  sit  down. 


8o  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

There  is  nothing  much  to  tell  since  I  wrote  last  except 
that  I  feel  more  at  home,  and  love  it.  The  work  is  espe- 
cially heavy  in  our  ward,  and  our  easy  days  (which  don't 
occur  often)  are  like  Oldway's  hardest  ones!  It  is  really 
hard  —  such  as  I  was  looking  for.  A  nurse  took  two  of  us 
last  night  to  see  the  receiving  ward  —  a  separate  building 
with  about  fifty  beds  always  ready.  X-ray  and  operating- 
room.  The  wounded  are  brought  there,  seen  by  the  doctor, 
bathed,  and  if  necessary  operated  on  at  once.  It  was  9.30 
last  evening  when  we  went,  and  three  had  just  come  in  and 
were  waiting  their  turn  for  the  theatre.  If  it  is  night,  they 
are  kept  in  bed  there,  and  not  sent  on  to  the  ward  till 
morning,  which  saves  endless  noise  and  confusion. 

I  did  a  man's  dressing  today,  who  is  being  sent  on  to  a 
London  hospital  —  it  made  me  almost  homesick!  We  keep 
only  the  worst  cases  and  send  on  the  others  to  base  hos- 
pitals —  at  Calais,  etc.  —  or  to  England. 

Julys,  191 5 

We  have  just  been  having  a  thrilling  evening  — 
three  Belgian  aeroplanes  were  being  shelled  by  the  Ger- 
mans. We  went  down  on  the  beach,  and  watched  for 
half  an  hour.  All  of  us  were  out  craning  our  necks.  We 
could  see  the  aeroplanes  clearly,  though  they  were  very 
high  up.  And  we  could  hear  the  boom  of  the  guns,  and 
then  see  the  flash  in  the  sky,  and  a  little  puff  of  smoke 


BELGIUM  8 1 

slowly  dispersing.  The  sentry  on  the  beach  tuld  us  it  was 
shrapnel,  so  now  we  know  what  shrapnel  is  like,  when  it 
bursts  near  the  men.  It  seemed  very  close  to  the  aero- 
planes sometimes,  but  they  moved  fast  —  not  trying  to 
get  away,  however,  for  they  kept  circling  about. 

It  is  nearly  9  o'clock  now,  but  still  quite  light.  The  view 
from  my  window  is  perfect  as  1  write  —  the  afterglow  of  a 
lovely  purple  sunset  over  the  water  —  and  the  four  little 
torpedo  destroyers  on  guard.  One  gets  quite  fond  of  them, 
and  I  look  for  them  every  night.  In  the  morning  they  are 
gone.  A  bugle  blows  at  nine  every  night  —  and  all  lights 
must  be  hidden  and  everybody  comes  indoors. 

I  went  to  the  theatre  this  afternoon  with  a  new  case  who 
came  last  night,  a  great  big  six-footer.  His  arm  was  very 
badly  smashed,  and  he  lay  on  the  table  looking  so  unhappy 
that  I  talked  to  him,  and  found  that  he  was  afraid  of  losing 
the  arm.  He  said  he  did  n't  mind  for  himself,  but  that  he 
had  "  une  mere  et  quatre  petits  freres."  I  asked  the  doctor, 
and  was  able  to  reassure  him  that  he  was  almost  certain 
not  to  lose  it.  He  had  never  had  ether  before,  and  I  ex- 
plained to  him  that  they  would  cover  his  face,  and  then 
he  would  be  "endormi"  and  would  feel  nothing.  He  asked 
me  whether  his  whole  body  would  be  "endormi,"  or  only 
his  arm  —  and  he  took  the  ether  like  a  lamb.  I  have  never 
seen  any  one  take  it  so  peacefully  —  just  breathing  quietly 
and  not  stirring  even  a  finger.  The  operation  took  an  hour 


82  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

and  twenty  minutes,  and  such  an  arm!  The  explosive 
shells  work  havoc.  The  doctor  hopes  to  save  it,  but  I  feel 
very  anxious  —  he  is  such  a  nice  lad,  and  so  plucky. 

Do  write  all  news  —  one  is  so  cut  off  here,  and  treasures 
every  detail.  Could  n't  you  send  me  daily  papers  instead 
of  weekly?  I  am  starving  for  news  of  England  and  the  war! 

Sunday,  July  4,  191 5 

It  is  hot  today.  I  do  not  work  in  the  big  house, 
which  is  cool  and  gets  all  the  breezes  —  but  in  a  pavilion 
which  is  stewing  —  only  a  tin  roof  and  uncurtained  win- 
dows, so  that  the  sun  pours  in  all  day.  I  can't  bear  to  see 
the  men  lie  panting  with  the  heat  and  be  able  to  do  nothing 
for  them  —  no  ice  —  no  electric  fans  —  nothing.  The  condi- 
tions here  are  unsanitary  in  everyway  —  flies  thick  every- 
where. We  have  to  keep  brushing  them  out  of  the  wounds 
while  doing  dressings,  and  they  swarm  over  our  food  in  the 
dining-room.  The  garbage  stands  uncovered,  I  am  told. 

The  work  is  really  hard,  and  they  make  it  harder  than 
need  be  —  by  little  things  such  as  putting  green  and  white 
counterpanes  on  every  bed  when  we  come  on  duty,  not 
making  the  beds  then,  as  there  is  not  time  enough,  only 
tidying  them.  Then  after  dinner  really  making  the  beds!  I 
Then  at  5  o'clock  taking  all  the  counterpanes  off  for  the 
night! ! !  In  a  ward  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  beds  it  is  a 
lot  of  extra  work  —  at  Oldway  we  never  dreamed  of  taking 


/^ 


BELGIUM  83 

them  off  at  night.  These  are  a  gift  from  the  Queen,  who 
is  likely  to  visit  the  wards  unexpectedly,  so  they  cannot  be 
taken  off  for  the  night  till  the  last  thing.  She  does  not 
realize  the  extra  work  it  makes  for  the  nurses!  I  wish  she 
had  given  us  thermometers  instead,  for  there  are  only 
eleven  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  beds.  It  is  always  a 
competition  between  the  other  nurse  and  me  to  secure  the 
odd  one.  Lots  of  nurses  are  overworked  here.  However,  I 
expected  it,  and  am  awfully  glad  1  came. 

The  cure  tells  me  that  there  is  mass  at  10.30  in  the  big 
house  —  pour  les  blesses  —  but  one  can't  be  let  off  to  go, 
too  rushed  in  the  wards. 

A  man  told  me  that  his  sister  was  a  Red  Cross  nurse  in 
the  autumn,  and  when  the  Germans  took  the  hospital  they 
stood  them  up  in  a  row  —  and  shot  them  all.  There  were 
tears  in  his  eyes  when  he  told  me. 

July  3,  191 5 

Will  you  send  out  several  dozen  rubber  air-rings  — 
medium  size  —  with  a  part  of  the  money  which  was  given 
me  for  the  men.  They  are  very  much  needed,  as  a  lot  were 
burned  in  the  fire.  Address  to  my  ward,  —  Pavilion  Every- 
man, —  and  the  Belgian  Soldiers'  Committee  will  forward 
them  by  the  Monday  afternoon  Admiralty  boat.    I  am 

getting  Mrs.  W to  send  me  out  a  lot  of  gauze  and 

bandages,  which  are  free,  of  course. 


84  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

One  hears  rumors  of  a  big  offensive  by  the  Allies  about 
the  middle  of  this  month.  And  many  say  that  La  Panne 
has  not  too  long  a  future.  Who  knows !  Another  rumor  was 
that  when  they  were  shelling  near  here  the  last  time,  twelve 
battleships  were  at  hand  to  take  everybody  away  by  sea. 
"On  dit"  that  the  reason  we  are  n't  shelled  just  now,  as 
could  so  easily  be,  is  because  the  German  officer  command- 
ing near  here  is  half-brother  to  the  Queen  of  the  Belgians. 
She  comes  often  to  the  hospital. 

July  7,  191 5 

Splendid  news  —  I  have  received  a  draft  for  twenty 
pounds  from  the  St.  Timothy's  Alumnae,  voted  by  them  at 
the  meeting  at  Baltimore.  Will  you  cash  it  and  send  ether 
as  soon  as  possible?  —  we  are  needing  it  so  much.  When 
your  cable  came  yesterday  afternoon,  it  was  brought  to  me 
in  the  theatre  —  where  I  was  holding  down  a  patient,  and 
steeped  in  blood  —  I  could  n't  read  it  for  ages.  I  don't 
describe  any  wounds,  because  one  just  could  n't  here  — 
they  are  all  too  awful.  1  could  n't  ever  tell  what  I  have 
seen  in  the  theatre  here. 

By  luck  I  got  a  tiny  little  back  room  to  myself  —  it  is  so 
small  that  no  one  else  can  be  put  into  it,  which  is  a  joy. 
The  wind  is  so  high  today  that  everything  is  covered  with 
sand  —  my  lap  is  full,  sitting  in  my  window  writing. 

Things  here  have  hummed  for  the  last  two  days,  and  we 


BELGIUM  85 

have  been  so  very  short-handed  that  we  are  all  dead  beat. 
Our  head  nurse  is  off  ill  today  —  simply  overdone.  The 
doctors  knew  how  tired  we  were  in  our  ward,  for  there  was 
a  big  rush  the  week  before  1  came  —  and  they  have  not 
sent  us  any  new  patients  this  week  until  it  was  necessary. 
But  now  the  rest  of  the  hospital  is  full  up,  and  we  are  get- 
ting a  steady  stream.  The  London  training  school  sent 
thirty  Belgian  girls  last  night,  and  three  were  put  into  our 
ward  today  —  which  is  a  relief,  saving  us  many  steps.  A 
new  nurse  came  and  1  got  relieved  from  my  extra  ten  beds, 
thank  goodness.  Twenty  are  quite  all  I  want,  with  such 
heavy  cases.  So  many  of  the  nurses  don't  speak  even  three 
words  of  French  —  I  am  acting  as  interpreter  all  day  in 
my  ward. 

I  have  got  such  a  nice  new  man  —  with  a  fractured  arm 

—  and  yesterday  afternoon  Dr.  H gave  me  the  horrible 

jagged  piece  of  shrapnel  which  came  out  of  his  wound. 

Did  I  tell  you  about  the  little  Seminarist  —  that  means 
one  who  is  training  for  the  priesthood?  He  was  very  badly 
wounded,  and  they  said  he  could  n't  live,  when  he  was 
brought  in  a  fortnight  ago.  But  now  he  is  very  much  alive 
and  quite  a  character  —  clever  and  such  a  sense  of  humor 

—  though  nothing  but  skin  and  bone.  The  Seminarists 
act  as  stretcher-bearers  at  the  front  —  and  this  lad  went 
alone  to  a  very  dangerous  spot,  after  a  wounded  man  — 
and  got  his  shoulder  shot  away.   He  had  word  yesterday 


86  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

that  he  is  to  receive  the  Order  of  Leopold,  which  as  a  rule 
only  officers  get. 

All  the  Canadians  (whose  day  is  July  ist)  and  all  the 
Americans  (for  the  Fourth)  were  invited  two  nights  ago  to 
the  big  salon  and  presented  with  flowers  by  the  Belgians 
—  Dr.  Depage  among  the  rest.  There  were  speeches  and 
cheers  and  so  on.  Yesterday  afternoon  Dr.  Depage  asked 
all  us  Americans  to  tea  at  his  villa,  to  celebrate.  He  hardly 
spoke  to  any  one.  Madame  Depage,  you  know,  was  lost  in 
the  Lusitania,  and  her  grave  is  near  the  hospital,  along  the 
shore,  on  the  sand  dunes.  The  youngest  boy  passed  tea 
and  cakes  yesterday  —  he  is  about  twelve  —  a  nice  boy. 

Julyg,  191 5 

I  was  so  tired  yesterday,  the  Head  Sister  gave  me  an 
extra  half-hour  off  duty.  I  could  be  spared,  for  yesterday 
was  n't  so  bad  as  the  two  days  before,  which  were  awful. 
Oh,  the  work!  and  the  operations!  We  had  sixteen  new 
cases  in  twenty-four  hours,  here  in  my  ward.  I  don't  know 
how  long  I  '11  be  able  to  stand  it  here  unless  they  give  us  a 
little  more  time  off.  I  hope  I  can  rise  to  an  emergency  with 
the  best,  but  I  cannot  go  on  day  in,  day  out,  week  in,  week 
out  —  especially  as  it  is  not  necessary,  now  that  we've 
got  three  new  Belgian  girls  in  our  ward.  Our  Head  Sister 
won't  let  them  do  a  thing  —  not  even  take  temperatures  — 
though  they've  had  six  months'  hospital  training!  She  is 


BELGIUM  87 

not  a  good  organizer  —  and  overtired  —  and  the  respon- 
sibility of  such  a  big  ward  has  got  on  her  nerves.  Two  more 
Sisters  are  off  today  for  illness,  if  1  get  too  tired,  1  shall 
just  stay  oflf  ill  myself  —  it 's  the  only  way !  —  "A  willing 
horse,"  etc.  Oddly  enough  it  is  my  head  that  is  worse  than 
my  feet,  and  tomorrow  1  am  going  to  wring  a  half-day  out 
of  the  Head  Sister  if  possible. 

1  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  have  two  German  patients. 
They  are  kept  separate  —  in  a  two-bedded  room  in  the 
big  house  —  and  when  well  they  will  be  sent  away  as 
prisoners.  One  of  the  Sisters  took  me  in  to  see  them,  and  it 
gave  me  a  strange  feeling  to  think  they  were  really  Ger- 
mans! One  was  very  badly  wounded  and  half  asleep  — 
quite  a  boy.  But  the  other  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  and 
seemed  to  belong  to  a  superior  class  of  man.  Such  a  sly 
face,  though  —  he  looked  like  an  educated  criminal.  They 
are  very  well  treated  here. 

Some  of  the  new  probationers  are  n't  much  good,  I  am 
sorry  to  say.  They  can't  bandage,  and  are  not  allowed  to 
take  temperatures.  1  have  to  take  all  the  temperatures, 
pulses,  and  respirations  for  half  the  ward,  and  1  was  at  it 
hard  just  two  hours,  from  3  to  5,  while  they  did  little  noth- 
ings-in-particular. I  am  sure  they  must  know  how,  only 
the  Head  Sister  dreads  trusting  them.  I  don't  have  time 
enough  to  even  get  out  of  the  hospital  gate!  Furnes  is 
only  three  miles  —  I  long  to  go  there,  and  my  first  half- 


88  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

day  I  shall.  One  has  to  walk,  but  they  say  one  is  sure  to 
get  a  lift  —  an  ambulance  or  something  passing. 

Sunday,  July  ii,  191 5 

I  am  in  bed  with  a  bad  throat,  and  can't  eat  much. 
I  had  it  Friday  morning,  but  went  on  duty  as  usual  —  we 
were  extra  busy  —  and  I  was  on  till  8  p.m.  The  little  Sem- 
inarist said  that  I  looked  ill,  and  I  told  him  he  had  "les 
yeux  trop  voyants."  I  was  in  bed  yesterday  all  day  —  and 
thought  I  'd  be  better  today,  but  I  woke  up  a  little  worse 

if  anything.    Dr.  H has  been  in  this  morning,  and 

Sister  Parsons  (who  was  at  Oldway)  has  been  looking 
after  me  when  she  could. 

Isolation  Villa,  July  14,  191 5 

If  I  came  out  here  for  experience  I  am  certainly  get- 
ting it !  Not  every  one  could  be  threatened  with  a  diphther- 
itic throat,  and  display  a  rash  which  baffled  all  the  doctors, 
and  be  carried  on  a  stretcher  to  the  Isolation  Villa  in  the 
sand  dunes  —  all  within  five  miles  of  the  trenches  and 
within  sound  of  the  German  guns!  It  has  been  amusing,  and 
never,  never  shall  I  forget  it!  If  it  had  n't  been  so  awful, 
it  would  have  been  comical.  When  I  wrote  last  I  thought  I 
was  better,  but  my  temperature  went  up  to  over  103, 
and  they  moved  me  into  a  private  room  in  the  big  hos- 
pital, on  Sister  Parsons's  floor.    It  seemed  so  odd  to  be 


BELGIUM  89 

carried  on  a  stretcher,  just  like  the  wounded  going  to  an 
operation!  There  I  had  day  and  night  nursing  for  the  first 
time,  and  was  thankful  —  but  the  next  morning  the  doctor 
of  that  floor  refused  to  keep  me  —  with  a  rash  and  throat 

—  and  I  was  bundled  off  here  to  the  Isolation  Villa. 

1  have  quite  a  nice  room  here  —  looking  out  on  the  sand 
dunes.  One  hears  the  guns  constantly.  Just  outside  there 
is  a  little  guard-house,  where  the  sand-dune  sentries  spend 
their  time  when  off  duty.  It  is  rather  amusing  to  see  them 
march  off  to  change  the  guard.  There  are  only  two  nurses 
here.  One  is  Soeur  Marthe,  the  King  and  Queen's  own 
trained  nurse,  to  whom  they  are  devoted.  She  is  very  nice, 
and  so  is  the  other  one  —  a  fat,  cheery  little  soul,  who  has 
taken  care  of  me.  They  all  say  that  when  I  am  able  I  must 
go  straight  away  from  here  for  a  rest. 

Always  something  from  you  each  day  —  yesterday 
books,  and  today  papers,  etc.  —  just  what  I  have  wanted 

—  thanks  awfully.  I  had  a  letter  yesterday  from  Dr.  Hec- 
tor Munro,  which  I  must  answer  —  asking  whether  we 
could  take  some  one  whom  he  recommends.  He  was  just 
off  for  the  front  from  the  base  hospital. 

I  feel  weary  and  must  stop. 

Isolation  Villa,  July  15,  191 5 

Matron  was  pleased  when  the  rubber  air-rings  came. 
She  said  that  we  need  pyjamas  and  socks  and  bedroom 


90  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

slippers,  and  she  hopes  you  can  send  them.  Dark  pyjamas 
are  best. 

My  nurse  is  a  nice  plump  Belgian,  very  well  "  diplomee," 
and  has  worked  under  Dr.  Depage  and  other  well-known 
men.  She  is  a  real  sunshine  —  anything  rounder  or  more 
hideous  than  her  face  I  have  never  seen,  but  so  cheery  and 
lovable.  So  I  am  well  looked  after.  I  may  be  able  to  travel 
by  next  Wednesday  or  Thursday.  Matron  says  I  must  be 
well  "remise"  before  attempting  it. 

July  1 6 

Am  getting  on  well,  quite  convalescing.  Going  to 
sit  out  in  the  garden  today  —  the  garden  being,  I  suppose, 
a  private  corner  of  sand  dune.  I  have  n't  seen  it  yet,  as  I 
arrived  on  a  stretcher  with  my  head  covered  up!  From  my 
window  today  I  can  see  two  what  they  call  "  ballons  cap- 
tifs"  —  which  means  balloons  sent  up  for  observation  and 
secured.  One,  quite  near,  is  French  —  and  farther  away 
along  the  coast-line  is  a  Boche.  They  say  there  are  five 
between  here  and  Ypres  today,  and  it  means  that  an  of- 
fensive of  some  sort  is  preparing.  My  nurse  says  the  guns 
were  loud  at  5  this  a.m.,  but  I  did  n't  hear  them.  Yester- 
day I  both  heard  and  saw  the  Boches  shelling  some  French 
and  British  ships  out  at  sea  —  it  was  all  very  close,  and 
they  nearly  hit  them  once  or  twice.  I  crept  out  of  bed  to 
watch. 


BELGIUM  91 

It  has  been  fearfully  hot  —  and  I  have  longed  for  cold 
drinks.  The  flies  here  are  rampant  —  in  and  out  from  one 
infectious  case  to  another!  And  they  wake  me  every  morn- 
ing crawling  on  my  face.  1  am  told  the  garbage  stands 
uncovered.  Could  n't  the  Belgian  Committee  in  London 
improve  some  of  the  unsanitary  conditions  here? 

I  can't  tell  you  how  much  the  condensed  ether  has  been 

appreciated.  Do  write  to  C and  D and  the  others 

who  gave  the  money.  Pyjamas  are  very  much  needed  here 
—  often  the  men  can't  have  clean  ones  because  there 
are  n't  any.  For  some  reason  1  am  not  able  to  get  a  wire 
through  to  you  —  a  new  temporary  rule  —  but  Matron 
is  going  to  try  to  send  you  one  —  with  her  list  of  what  is 
needed.  It  is  impossible  to  get  at  their  individual  wants, 
as  at  Oldway  —  the  conditions  here  are  so  different. 

Have  you  heard  all  the  talk  of  the  rush  for  Calais?  I  am 
told  of  a  very  good  reason  for  our  not  being  bombarded 
here  —  but  I  hardly  think  the  censor  would  pass  it,  so  I 
will  tell  you  when  we  meet.  Sister  Vera  writes  beseeching 
me  to  leave  here  before  the  rush  for  Calais  —  she  is  really 
worried! 

July  18 

Up  today  and  staggered  over  to  the  hospital  to 
see  Matron  —  feeling  very  shaky.  Mrs.  Knocker  motored 
here  today,  to  bring  some  wounded  from  her  hut,  but  I 


92  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

was  out  on  the  sands  and  could  n't  be  found.  She  will  be 
coming  again  tomorrow.  Madame  de  Glos  has  been  very 
kind  to  me,  and  asked  me  to  stay  at  her  villa  to  recuperate 

—  but  I  am  going  to  Sister  Vera  at  Wimereux  (Boulogne) 
as  soon  as  I  can  travel.  The  ambulance  takes  me  to  Calais, 
and  from  there  I  go  by  train.  They  give  one  a  military 
pass. 

I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  get  back  here  —  it  grows  more 
doubtful  every  day  about  the  future  of  La  Panne.  I  should 
hate  to  get  caught  here  to  nurse  Germans  —  quite  possible, 
of  course!  One  reason  why  we  are  not  shelled  here  now  is 
because  if  the  Germans  got  this  place  the  hospital  would 
be  very  useful  to  them  —  and  also,  it  is  said,  because  La 
Panne  is  the  military  headquarters  now,  and  so  full  of  spies 
that  it  pays  the  Germans  to  leave  it. 

Mrs.  G has  just  been  to  see  me.  She  and  Miss  F 

are  doing  refugee  work  now,  in  their  villa  near  here.  She 
says  it  is  very  interesting,  but  heart-breaking.  They  have 
several  little  Belgian  children  living  with  them  now. 

July  19,  191 5 

There  was  a  big  review  on  the  beach  this  morning, 
preparatory  to  the  celebration  which  is  to  be  on  Wednesday 

—  Belgium's  national  day.  I  have  just  been  photographing 
the  little  Crown  Prince,  who  became  very  shy.  He  is  only 
thirteen  and  a  half,  and  is  a  sergeant !  You  see  I  am  able 


BELGIUM  93 

to  toddle  about  a  little.  Through  being  ill  I  missed  the 
visit  of  King  Albert  to  decorate  my  little  Seminarist  with 
the  Order  of  Leopold. 

I  went  to  the  ward  to  say  good-bye  to  my  patients.  The 
big  six-footer  you  asked  about  did  not  lose  his  arm  —  he 
was  up  and  walking  about  today.  I  wrote  a  letter  for  him 
before  I  was  ill,  to  his  aunt  in  England,  as  his  mother  is  in 
Ghent  and  could  not  be  reached.  The  aunt's  address 
sounded  like  "Csideef,  Soot  Wallis."  Can  you  guess  what  I 
finally  discovered  he  meant  —  Cardiff,  South  Wales! 

Am  starting  tomorrow  —  must  get  off  then,  as  there 
will  not  be  another  chance  for  a  week. 

Winter eux  [Boulogne],  July  21,  191 5. 

I  arrived  here  yesterday  about  3  o'clock,  after  oh, 
such  a  journey!  We  left  La  Panne  at  7.30  a.m.,  five  of  us, 
and  motored  to  Calais.  The  run  was  awfully  interesting  — 
very  front-like  —  and  we  saw  quite  a  bit  of  poor  battered 
Dunkirk,  which  I  had  missed  in  the  dark,  coming.  At 
Calais  1  had  to  engineer  the  whole  party,  as  no  one  spoke 
French,  and  there  was  red  tape  in  getting  our  passports 
vised.  Then  to  Boulogne  by  train,  and  out  here.  I  found 
Sister  Vera  with  her  bag  packed,  waiting  for  her  permit  to 
get  to  me  at  La  Panne!  I  have  a  nice  room,  three  minutes' 
walk  from  her  hospital,  over  a  tiny  cafe,  run  by  Veuve 
Briche  and  her  little  maid  —  with  excellent  food,  but  ap- 


94  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

palling  war  prices.  The  air  is  splendid,  and  I  am  so  looking 
forward  to  sitting  about  on  the  rocks  and  doing  nothing. 
As  for  returning  to  La  Panne,  Matron  gave  me  only  two 
weeks'  leave  —  but  every  one  else  told  me  that  a  month  or 
six  weeks  was  the  least  1  ought  to  have  after  such  an  illness 

—  and  1  shall  write  her.  Evidently  1  managed  to  put  up 
a  very  good  bluff,  and  to  deceive  even  you  at  first! 

Wimereux,  July  24,  191 5 

They  let  me  travel  too  soon  —  and  1  collapsed  into 
bed  again  as  soon  as  1  got  here.  Sister  Vera  has  been  taking 
care  of  me  —  she  can't  get  over  my  narrow  escape!  It  is 
slow  work  —  and  I  can  take  only  the  shortest  walks  as  yet 

—  ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  Luckily  she  can  be  spared  to 
look  after  me,  as  all  the  hospitals  about  here  have  been 
cleared  of  patients  in  preparation  for  the  rush  for 
Calais. 

I  do  wish  you  could  come  —  but  you  could  n't  possibly 
get  to  Boulogne  —  you  know  how  strict  they  are  —  civil- 
ians and  Americans  are  allowed  to  land  only  in  Dieppe. 
All  Americans  are  suspected  now  of  being  spies. 

Everything  here  is  far  more  strictly  censored  than  at 
La  Panne,  where  the  letters  we  wrote  were  seldom  opened, 
but  were  held  back  three  or  four  days  until  any  information 
in  them  would  be  no  longer  valuable.  Here  they  are  all 
opened.  And  no  photographs  may  be  taken  —  all  doctors 


BELGIUM  95 

and  nurses,  as  well  as  the  army,  have  had  lately  to  sign  a 
paper  stating  that  they  have  sent  their  kodaks  home. 

Matron  has  written  from  La  Panne  that  she  wants  Sister 
Vera  and  me  —  and  in  that  case  Vera  would  probably  be 
head  of  a  ward.  Although  she  is  only  my  age,  she  has  done 
nursing  for  eight  or  nine  years,  and  has  been  a  Matron. 
Everybody  in  her  hospital  has  been  most  kind  ever  since  I 
came,  and  she  was  given  extra  time  off,  to  be  with  me.  If 
I  go  back  to  La  Panne,  Matron  says  I  shall  probably  work 
in  the  big  house. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Depage  Hospital  has  acknowledged 
the  receipt  of  your  second  shipment  of  condensed  ether, 
and  of  one  hundred  pyjama  suits  and  one  hundred  and  fifty 

pairs  of  socks  and  bed-slippers.    Mrs.  C sent  out  from 

Suffolk  two  splendid  crates  of  miscellaneous  dressings  to 
my  pavilion.  And  I  have  received  £65  more  to  be  spent 
for  the  men ! 

Wimereux,  July  26,  191 5 

Sister  Vera  is  resigning  from  her  hospital,  and  I  find 
that  it  is  on  my  account,  in  order  to  take  me  to  England. 
To  tell  the  honest  truth,  my  case  seems  to  have  been  rather 
misunderstood  at  La  Panne.  Here  the  opinion  is  that  what 
I  really  had  was  something  serious  —  on  account  of  com- 
plications which  have  since  appeared. ^ 

1  Illness  diagnosed   later  by  London  physicians  as  scarlet  fever. 
{Editor's  Note.) 


96  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Wimereux,  August  i,  191 5 
It  certainly  was  good  to  see  you  —  never  shall  I 
forget  my  feelings  when  you  appeared  in  the  door ! !  I  am 
so  glad  that  you  have  had  a  glimpse  of  things  over  here. 
Captain  T was  sorry  to  have  missed  you  —  and  won- 
dered how  you  ever  had  the  luck  to  get  your  forty-eight- 
hour  "autorisation  speciale"! 
Shall  be  able  to  follow  with  Vera  in  a  few  days  now. 

Au  revoir  — 

Mary. 


III.  PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 


London,  November  9,  1916 

Dearest  Mother:  — 

It  is  just  a  month  today  since  I  began  my  course 
at  the  CHnic.^  The  lectures  are  even  stiffer  than  1  expected 
—  but  so  interesting  it  is  worth  the  hard  work.  It  is  curious 
to  think  that  a  year  ago  I  had  never  heard  of  Applied  Psy- 
chology—  and  now  1  would  not  go  back  to  nursing  for 
worlds!  I  am  awfully  looking  forward  to  having  patients 
of  my  own  —  Dr.  Murray  thinks  I  can  by  Christmas-time. 

Some  of  our  lectures  have  been  on  "The  Psychology  of 
the  First  Five  Years."  One  subject  was  "The  Subnormal 
Child"  —  another  "The  Psychology  of  Children's  Mis- 
demeanors." .    _.  '  ;    .1   ' ,' .  ■  ,'^,'.  * 

The  fundamental  cause  of  war-shock  goes  back  to  child- 
hood. The  reason  why  one  man  gets  it  and  another,  under 
the  same  conditions,  does  n't,  is  owing  to  some  streak  of 
weakness  in  the  subconsciousness,  dating  back  to  con- 
ditions of  early  infancy.  Our  doctors  are  not  expecting 
to  attempt  a  complete  cure  for  every  war-shock  patient 
who  comes  to  the  Clinic  —  that  would  involve  a  course  of 
thorough-going  analysis,  which  would  take  too  long.  In 
many  cases  it  is  much  better  to  do  a  temporary  cure  in  a 
quick  way  —  and  unless  the  previous  causes  of  war-shock 
»  Medico-Psychological  Clinic. 


100  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

are  renewed,  it  may  prove  a  permanent  cure.  You  under- 
stand that  the  cases  of  war-shock  we  shall  deal  with  will 
often  be  men  who  have  never  been  wounded. 

Dr.  Stoddart  lectured  on  the  Neuropathic  Patient  the 
other  day.  We  are  having  a  course  on  the  "  Psychology  of 
the  Subconscious"  and  one  on  "Normal  Psychology,"  from 
reflexes  and  sensori-motor  arcs  to  the  measurement  of 
mental  ability,  etc.,  and  the  relation  of  Social  Psychology 
to  Individual  Psychology.  Also  some  lectures  by  Dr.  Mack- 
intosh on  "Type  and  Temperament"  and  "Heredity." 

The  need  of  Applied  Psychology  is  being  more  and  m.ore 
recognized  here.  Even  last  spring,  at  a  meeting  arranged 
by  Lady  Campbell  for  the  members  of  the  British  Women's 
Patriotic  League  —  Lord  Montagu  of  Beaulieu  discussed 
the  psychology  of  the  airman  most  interestingly,  I  was 
told.  He  was  one  of  the  important  members  of  the  new 
Air  Board,  you  know.  He  said  that  a  wounded  soldier  is 
far  easier  to  cure  than  a  flying  man  with  shell-shock. 

We  have  some  very  distinguished  doctors  on  the  Staff 

at  the  Clinic.  I  enclose  a  list.  They  all  give  their  services, 

of  course:  — 

Medical  Staff 

H.  G.  Adamson,  M.D.,  F.R.C.P. 

W.  E.  M.  Armstrong,  M.A.,  M.D. 

Geo.  W.  Badgerow,  M.B.,  F.R.C.S. 

Maud  M.  Chadburn,  M.D.,  B.S. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  loi 

Hilda  Clark.  M.B.,  B.S. 
*Ivo  Geikie  Cobb,  M.D.  (Brux).  M.R.C.S.,  L.R.C.P. 

Charles  Gibbs,  F.R.C.S. 

Alfred  Charles  Jordan,  B.A..  M.D..  B.C. 

Frank  A.  Juler,  M.A.,  M.B..  B.C.,  F.R.C.S. 

A.  N.  Leathern,  M.R.C.S.,  L.R.C.P. 

Wm.  McDougall,  M.A.,  M.B.,  F.R.S. 
♦Hector  Munro,  M.B.,  CM. 
*Jessie  M.  Murray,  M.B.,  B.S. 

C.  S.  Myers,  M.A.,  M.D.,  D.Sc,  F.R.S. 

Agnes  Savill,  M.A..  M.D.,  M.R.C.P. 
*W.  H.  B.  Stoddart,  M.D.,  F.R.C.P. 
Dental  Surgeons 

T.  H.  Vaughan,  L.D.S.,  R.C.S.  (Eng.) 

G.  J.  Harborow,  L.D.S.,  R.C.S.  (Eng.) 

*  Acting  Staff. 

November  25,  1916 

All  well  here  —  studying  like  mad.  Am  sorry  for 
my  delay  in  inquiring  about  a  soldier  for  Josephine.  I  went 
yesterday,  and  can  now  report.  First  of  all  —  tell  her  that 
really  there  are  no  lonely  soldiers  now.  There  are  clubs, 
and  everything  is  systematized.  And  people  who  had  a 
"lonely  soldier"  have  found  they  were  one  of  several 
writing  to  him!  Also  people  have  found  the  lonely  soldier 
often  ceased  writing  letters,  and  only  acknowledged  their 


102  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

letters  and  gifts  with  a  post-card — which  seemed  to  indi- 
cate being  no  longer  so  lonely !  I  did  n't  go  to  the  Fairy  God- 
mothers' League  —  is  n't  the  name  enough  to  put  one  off 
—  this  is  no  time  for  sentiment!  And  I  didn't  want  to 
advise  Josephine  to  waste  her  time  and  energy  on  something 

not  really  needed.    Dr.  C ,  of  the  R.A.M.C,  told  me 

that  when  he  was  out  at  the  front  a  man  in  his  regiment  ad- 
vertised as  a  lonely  soldier,  as  a  joke,  and  Dr.  C said 

that  hundreds  of  answers  came  from  girls.  The  man  was  a 

rotter,  and  when  Dr.  C overheard  him  joking  about 

it,  he  made  him  sit  down  and  answer  every  letter! 

December  20,  19 16 

No.  34  is  being  prepared  for  shell-shock.  It  is  al- 
most next  door  to  the  Clinic,  and  is  to  be  opened  as  soon 
as  it  can  be  got  ready.  1 1  will  be  filled  up  at  once  with  civil- 
ians while  waiting  for  War  Office  recognition.  There  will  be 
much  delay,  and  red  tape,  before  getting  official  authoriza- 
tion. We  are  fortunate  to  get  a  house  so  near  the  Clinic  — 
as  many  of  the  patients  cannot  come  alone  for  their  (gener- 
ally) daily  treatments.  Our  dream  is  to  get  the  intermedi- 
ate houses  also,  and  open  them  all  up  into  one. 

January  14,  191 7 

We  had  our  examinations  last  week,  and  our  marks 
have  just  been  posted,   1  passed  in  everything,  and  came 


PS  YCHO-AhlAL  YSIS  103 

second  of  the  first-term  students  in  Normal  Psychology, 
third  in  Abnormal  Psychology.  The  Biology  course  was 
not  so  directly  in  relation  to  Psychology  as  was  intended  — 
they  could  not  get  the  lecturer  they  wanted,  on  account  of 
the  war.  So  1  put  more  work  into  the  other  courses.  Dr. 
Murray  said  they  were  more  important,  and  not  to  worry 
if  I  did  n't  pass  in  Biology  —  but  as  you  see,  1  managed  to. 
I  do  not  mean  that  Biology  is  n't  important  for  us  —  it  is 
—  but  a  lot  which  the  lecturer  gave  us  was  not  connected 
with  our  work,  and  not  important  for  iis.  I  enclose  the 
syllabus  for  next  term,  —  also  for  the  summer  term,  which 
is  less  study  and  more  patients. 

No.  34  is  to  be  opened  the  first  week  in  March  —  thrill- 
ing! —  we  are  needing  it  so  much. 

I  have  three  patients  now  at  the  Clinic.  Also  a  private 
case  which  I  am  taking  under  Dr.  Murray.  She  comes  to 
me  two  days  a  week  here  in  Dover  Street,  at  my  room  in 
the  Club.  She  asked  me  last  time  if  I  would  lunch  and  go 
to  a  play  with  her  —  and  of  course  1  said.  No,  that  we 
never  go  out  with  patients  (! !)  She  is  getting  on  well.  I 
am  to  have  a  shell-shock  case  soon  —  loss  of  memory  — 
three  cheers!  •   -    " - 

1  go  now  to  Dr.  Murray  twice  a  week  for  my  own  analy- 
sis, which  I  want  to  get  through  as  much  as  is  possible 
this  winter.  Otherwise  things  would  come  cropping  up 
later.   Also  it  is  very  helpful  to  me  to  see  her  in  connec- 


104  ^^  T^^E  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

tion  with  my  patients.  Every  student  has  to  be  analyzed 
before  being  allowed  to  become  an  analyst.  No  amount  of 
study  can  take  the  place  of  it  —  it  is  a  necessary  part 
of  the  course. 

Here  is  a  part  of  the  parody  I  wrote  on  Analysis:  — 

T  is  the  wail  of  "  Subconscious," 

I  hear  it  declare  — 
"  You  've  repressed  me  too  long, 
"  To  expand  I  don't  dare. 
"  I  'm  accustomed  to  knots, 
"All  tied  up  in  a  ball  — 
"  To  expand  is  too  painful, 
"  I  don't  want  to  at  all" 

The  things  that  have  been 
Are  buried  so  deep  — 
'T  was  a  surgeon's  job 
(Through  hypnotized  sleep)  — 
But  now  there's  another 
And  better  way  — 
One  sits  in  a  chair 
And  talks  all  day. 

Cheer  up.  Subconscious, 
And  let  yourself  go  — 
You'll  soon  be  looser 
Down  there  below. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  los 

Just  tell  all  you  know, 
And  a  lot  beside  — 
Never  mind  if  you're  sick 
And  sorely  tried. 

Just  pour  it  out 
In  the  Analyst's  ear  — 
What  looked  so  hop)eless. 
She  can  make  clear. 


'T  is  the  Analyst's  voice  — 
I  hear  her  say, 
"  And  now  you  must  go. 
That's  enough  for  to-day." 

Sister  Vera  is  on  night  duty  in  Sister  Agnes  Keyser's 
Hospital  for  officers  (King  Edward  Vll's),  and  I  see  her 
about  once  a  week.  She  has  been  converted  to  analysis! 
Is  being  analyzed  herself  —  and  a  new  person  already. 
Her  husband  is  in  France  in  a  very  dangerous  station, 
operating  under  shell-fire.  He  had  his  hypodermic  needle 
shot  out  of  his  hand,  and  received  the  Military  Cross  for 
bringing  in  wounded  from  No  Man's  Land  in  broad  day- 
light. 

January  25,  191 7 

I  have  six  patients  now  —  an  awful  lot,  more  than 
any  other  student,  but  it  is  splendid,  and  I  shall  keep  them 


io6  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

all  if  I  can.  Some  of  them  come  daily,  and  some  only  two 
or  three  times  a  week.  It  may  be  too  much,  but  I  shall 
have  a  good  try.  Dr.  Murray  has  an  eye  on  me,  and  don't 
worry.  One  is  a  case  of  Gallipoli  shell-shock  —  complete  loss 
of  memory  —  such  a  nice  boy,  only  twenty-one. 

February  8,  191 7 

There  is  such  a  lot  to  answer  in  yours  —  and  I  must 
hurry,  as  1  ought  to  be  studying.  Don't  worry,  I  get 
plenty  of  food  —  with  this  work  one  requires  large  quanti- 
ties of  nourishment!  I  can't  go  out  much,  as  I  have  so 
few  afternoons  or  evenings  free.  Wednesday  is  my  only 
evening,  and  every  afternoon  is  full  up  except  Satur- 
day, when  I  have  a  lot  to  do,  and  sometimes  go  to  the 
country. 

My  Gallipoli  boy  is  getting  on.  Very,  very  slowly  —  the 
treatment  has  hardly  begun  yet  —  but  his  sister  said  yes- 
terday that  he  seems  a  little  better.  She  volunteered  the 
remark.  I  have  been  trying  the  word-reaction  tests  with 
him  —  and  got  exactly  the  results  I  knew  I  would.  I  made 
up  the  lists  of  words,  with  words  sandwiched  in  which 
have  to  do  with  his  Gallipoli  experiences.  At  any  word, 
such  as  rifle,  sand,  ship,  waves,  bugle,  tent,  shells,  etc.,  there 
is  no  reaction-word  at  all  —  his  mind  is  a  dead  blank.  It 
will  be  interesting  to  compare  these  results  with  the  later 
ones.   A  friend  offered  to  fetch  him  to  the  Clinic  once  or 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  107 

twice  a  week  —  to  save  his  sister  wiio  has  to  come  with 
him  every  day,  and  has  a  family  of  young  children. 

I  am  lunching  today  with  M .   As  a  rule  1  can't 

lunch  with  any  one,  but  today  my  first  patient  is  my  pri- 
vate case  who  comes  to  me  here  at  2.  Then  at  the  Clinic 
I  have  patients  straight  on  from  3.30  to  7  —  one  from  7. 1 5 
to  8  —  and  one  from  8  to  9.  On  a  day  like  that  1  sleep 
later  in  the  morning,  and  have  a  good  lunch,  and  an  egg 
with  my  tea  at  5,  as  the  Tommies  do!  Then  a  cold  supper 
when  1  get  home.  And  thus  1  keep  well  —  it 's  a  glorious  life 
and  1  love  it.  The  last  patient,  from  8  to  9  tonight,  is  not 
really  mine,  but  one  of  the  head  analyst's.  She  is  trying 
him  tentatively  on  different  students  to  see  who  does  best 
with  him.  This  is  the  third  time  1  have  had  him,  and  I 
hope  it  means  1  am  doing  well  with  him  —  or  rather,  he 
with  me. 

February  18,  19 17 

There  is  n't  much  news,  except  that  I  am  pegging 
away  hard  and  love  it.  1  have  six  patients  at  the  Clinic, 
and  all  goes  well.  1  may  be  going  to  have  one  more  new 
patient  soon.  Today  1  lunched  with  Pia  Digby,  to  meet 
her  cousin,  who  was  badly  wounded  and  is  now  at  the  War 
Office  —  very  interested  in  psycho-analysis. 

On  Wednesday  I  had  to  arrange  for  a  shell-shock  case 
to  be  brought  from  his  hospital.    He  shook  all  over,  like 


io8  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

nothing  on  earth  —  and  could  n't  stand  without  crutches. 

I  got  R to  fetch  him  to  the  CHnic,  and  take  him  back. 

He  may  be  going  to  have  treatment  from  Dr.  Hector 
Munro,  with  me  there  to  take  notes.  It  will  be  at  his  own 
hospital,  as  it  is  too  difficult  to  transport  him.  All  petrol 
is  now  being  requisitioned  for  war  work.  Sugar  is  very 
scarce,  otherwise  things  go  on  much  as  usual. 

Fehruary  28,  191 7 

I  am  working  awfully  hard,  analyzing  sixteen  hours 
a  week — apart  from  the  lectures  and  study.  Am  very 
well,  and  starting  now  to  coach  for  the  exams,  two  hours 
a  week  —  so  as  not  to  get  in  a  rush  at  the  last.  I  have  lost 
my  shell-shock  case  temporarily,  as  there  is  a  hitch  about 
his  coming  so  far  every  day,  and  his  sister,  who  brought 
him,  has  had  to  go  to  work.  But  when  No.  34  opens,  we 
shall  be  able  to  have  him  there.  One  of  my  new  private 
cases  who  comes  to  me  is  a  nurse. 

Another,  a  Clinic  case,  is  an  hysterical  girl  who  is  on 
night  duty,  making  munitions,  but  has  got  permission  to 
be  an  hour  late  on  the  days  she  comes  to  me  at  the  Clinic. 
As  a  child  she  was  frightened  by  a  brother  dressing  in  a 
sheet  and  jumping  out  on  her  —  she  twists  her  face,  poor 
girl,  and  shoots  her  eyes  in  different  directions,  and  quar- 
rels constantly  with  all  her  friends.  Her  "  boy"  went  down 
on  H.M.S.  Queen  Mary,  but  now  she  has  another!  —  and 


PS  YCHO-AN/iL  YSIS  109 

told  me  that  he  does  not  know  about  her  being  hysterical. 

She  is  living  in  Grace  M 's  hostel,  and  was  brought  by 

her  to  the  Clinic.    It  will  be  a  long  case,  but  the  girl  seems 
keen  to  go  on  with  the  treatment. 

We  had  to  write  a  paper  last  week  on  Reflex  Action, 
Instinct,  and  Intelligence  —  explaining  them  and  tracing 
the  gradations.   I  got  8  out  of  10. 

March  8,  1917 

The  girl  whom  Grace  brought  to  the  Clinic,  and 
who  is  my  patient,  has  got  diphtheria,  poor  girl.  She  is  in 
hospital. 

No.  34  is  nearly  ready.  All  the  furniture  is  going  in  — 
such  a  nice  plain  style  of  things  in  imitation  old  oak.  I 
have  already  arranged  for  one  patient  of  mine  to  come  and 
live  there  —  one  who  needs  to  be  near.  He  is  so  intelligent 
and  getting  on  so  splendidly.  He  was  in  very  bad  home 
conditions.  One  is  always  having  to  help  one's  patients  in 
those  ways  —  by  advice  and  interest  in  their  conditions, 
as  well  as  by  actual  treatment.  One  patient  I  have,  only 
twice  a  week,  who  did  not  want  analysis  —  was  very  set 
against  it  and  came  to  me  just  for  talks  —  but  is  now  edg- 
ing round  towards  it,  wanting  to  have  analysis  and  not 
liking  to  say  so! 


no  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

March  18,  191 7 
I  am  very  weary,  as  I  have  spent  most  of  this  golden 
Sunday  afternoon  wrestling  with  the  chemical  processes 
of  digestion  —  not  to  mention  the  nervous  and  chemical 
control  of  respiration  and  circulation!  Ah,  me,  what  a  life 
it  is,  to  go  back  to  school  at  my  age!  And  this  is  harder 
than  school,  it's  more  like  college.  If  you  could  see  my 
notebooks  you'd  believe  that  this  is  an  "exact  science"  all 
right ! !  The  subject  of  the  paper  you  asked  about  was 
"Condensation  and  Displacement,"  which  are  two  forms 
of  distortion.  Other  dream  processes,  if  they  interest  you, 
are  presentability  —  also  identification,  dramatization, 
plastic  representation,  symbolization,  and  secondary  ela- 
boration. Other  expressions  connected  with  the  structure 
of  dreams  are  the  common  mean  and  overdetermination. 
Of  course  we  don't  use  them  in  work  with  our  patients! 

March  28,  191 7 

They  say  food  will  soon  be  very  scarce.  We  rarely 
see  a  potato  —  sugar  very  limited  —  meatless  days,  etc. 

I  am  going  to  stand  G 's  munition  girls  a  fresh-egg 

treat  at  Easter.  They  love  eggs,  and  they're  so  good  for 
them.  I  had  tea  at  her  hostel  today.  She  is  running  it  so 
well  —  and  doing  such  splendid  work. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  iii 

April  5,  191 7 

Have  just  heard  —  I  came  second  in  Physiology, 

out  of  the  first  and  second-year  students  —  and  third  in 

Normal  Psychology,  third  out  of  first-year,  fourth  out  of 

all.    I  enclose  the  questions  for  our  examination  papers  — 

what  do  you  think  of  them?  I  am  going  to  the  D s  for 

the  week-end. 


F ,  Sussex,  April  15,  191 7 

I  came  down  on  Wednesday,  in  great  need  of  rest. 
It  is  perfect  to  be  here  —  so  near  the  Sussex  Downs  — 
with  nothing  to  do,  no  engagements,  and  no  brain  work. 

Much  as  1  want  to  tell  you  more  about  the  Clinic  work 
and  our  cases,  I  can't  bring  myself  to  write  letters  yet. 
I  will  later  on  try  to  write  out  a  sort  of  sketch  of  what 
the  treatment  really  is.  But  1  can  talk  about  it  better  than 
I  can  write.  It  is  rather  like  surgery  —  without  the  sud- 
den nerve-shock  of  a  surgical  operation.  The  surgeon  when 
he  operates  knows  exactly  what  he  is  going  to  find  —  what 
organs,  and  where  and  how  they  should  be,  and  how  any 
abnormal  conditions  should  be  put  right.  In  psycho-analy- 
sis, which  is  mental  surgery,  we  know  in  very  much  the 
same  way.  But  while  the  principle  is  always  the  same,  and 
everybody's  mind  (unconscious  mind,  1  mean)  works  and 
reacts  on  exactly  the  same  lines  —  be  he  plough-boy  or 
philosopher  —  in  another  sense  no  two  minds  are  alike. 


112  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

which  makes  the  work  extraordinarily  fascinating.  A  great 
difference  is  that  in  surgery  the  patient  does  nothing,  is  not 
even  conscious,  and  in  psycho-analysis  the  patient  must 
cooperate  and  understand  every  step  of  the  way  —  or 
there  could  be  no  cure.  I  am  talking  of  the  work  in  general, 
and  analysis  in  general  —  not  of  shell-shock  treatment  in 
particular.  But  it  applies  to  all,  of  course.  Our  doctors 
keep  records  of  all  the  cases,  so  that  other  doctors  may  see 
them  —  and  investigate.  We  have  some  very  well-known 
names  on  our  list.  Our  Dr.  S was  a  well-known  neu- 
rologist before  he  took  up  psychology.  He  went  back  this 
winter  to  help  in  the  big  London  hospital  where  he  had 
trained,  which  was  short-handed  owing  to  the  war.  And 
he  says  that  it  was  extraordinary  to  see  —  in  the  light  of 
what  he  now  knows  through  analysis  —  how  many  of  the 
cases  there  were  mental  not  organic.  You  understand  that 
by  that  I  mean  the  symptoms  physical,  but  the  (uncon- 
scious) cause  mental,  not  organic. 

Lady  Campbell  asked  me  to  tea  on  Easter  afternoon,  and 
I  went.  She  is,  of  course,  greatly  thrilled  over  our  coming 
into  the  war,  and  thinks  you  were  lucky  to  be  there  and 
see  it  —  a  historic  time!  I  feel  very  jealous  —  you  have 
scored  over  me!  We  are  going  on  Friday  to  the  service  at 
St.  Paul's  in  honor  of  it. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  113 

Lcnidcru,  April  20,  191 7 
The  celebration  at  St.  Paul's  this  morning  was  most 
thrilling  and  impressive.  You  will,  of  course,  have  read  all 
about  it  in  the  papers.  We  were  halfway  up  the  nave,  so 
got  the  wonderful  general  effect  of  the  whole  service.  The 
singing  of  our  "  Star-Spangled  Banner"  was  very  dramatic. 
After  it  was  over  we  stood  outside  on  the  steps  —  almost 
the  only  people  who  got  out  before  they  closed  the  doors 
to  keep  everybody  in!  —  and  had  a  splendid  view  of  the 
King  and  Queen,  Princess  Mary,  the  Lord  Mayor,  and 
other  bigwigs,  going  away,  it  was  a  glorious  day  —  bright 
sun  —  and  the  crowd  was  enormous  —  every  window  filled 
—  and  moving-picture  machines  grinding  away,  in  which  1 
dare  say  we  shall  appear.  Look  out  for  my  new  eighteen- 
bob  spring  hat! 

1  have  agreed  to  take  on  the  secretaryship  of  the  League 
connected  with  our  Clinic  —  a  League  started  in  order  to 
provide  things  needed  by  the  Clinic  patients,  very  much 
on  the  lines  of  my  work  of  providing  an  escort  to  fetch  shell- 
shock  Tommies.  But  this  is  for  the  civilian  patients  as 
well.  The  members  of  the  League  offer  motor-drives,  or  a 
little  outing,  movies  and  tea,  or  books,  or  the  use  of  a 
piano,  and  dozens  of  such-like  things.  The  secretary  has 
to  keep  account  of  the  demand  and  the  supply.  If  a  patient 
is  too  much  alone,  and  needs  cheering,  the  doctor  or  anal>'st 
tells  the  secretary,  and  she,  using  discrimination,  applies 


114  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

to  a  member  of  the  League  who  has  offered  tea  or  movies  or 
a  concert  or  a  drive,  and  connects  the  two.  These  things 
are  just  now  very  much  restricted  by  the  war.  All  we  can 
actually  do  now  is  to  raise  money  for  helping  patients  with 
the  necessities.  It  means  a  bit  of  letter-writing,  and  I  may 
have  to  hire  a  stenographer.  I  can  do  it  easily  this  spring  — 
but  will  pass  it  on  if  it 's  too  much  next  winter. 

April  24,  1 91 7 

We  have  had  our  marks  for  the  examination  on 
"Instincts  in  Animals  and  Man."  Question  No.  6  —  on 
Cyril  Burt's  two  lectures  —  was  given  us  by  him,  and  our 
papers  sent  to  him  to  be  marked.  The  question  was  not 
easy  —  "  Describe  the  part  played  by  the  Emotions  in  the 
formation  of  individual  character"  —  and  it  represents 
awfully  hard  work  for  me,  for  I  'm  not  used  to  study,  like 
the  others  in  the  class.  I  got  the  second  highest  mark  on 
this  question  of  Cyril  Burt's  —  but  not  on  the  whole  exam. 

We  can't  talk  much  about  M Hospital  now,  for  the 

young  enterprising  up-to-date  doctor  who  did  analysis 
there  has  gone  to  the  front.  You  remember  the  shell- 
shock  cures  done  at  M last  year.  The  elderly  nerve- 
specialist  now  in  command  does  not  understand  or  approve 
of  analysis!  He  says,  give  shell-shock  cases  manual  work 
—  excellent,  of  course,  but  hardly  to  be  compared  with  a 
fundamental  cure. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  115 

People  complain  that  analysis  is  slow  —  but  why  not? 
—  Nature  is  slow.  Surgery  swoops  in  and  cuts  —  but  a 
delicate  organism  like  the  mind  requires  a  different  treat- 
ment. Analysis  is  not  always  so  slow  —  it  depends  upon 
the  unconscious  conditions,  and  also  on  the  natural  in- 
telligence of  the  patient.  Education  is,  of  course,  a  help, 
but  the  more  naturally  psychological  the  mind,  the  quicker 
the  progress. 

Lots  of  cases  are  suffering  from  general  "nerves,"  and 
perhaps  a  phobia  of  some  sort,  fear  of  dark,  or  crowds,  or 
open  places,  or  being  locked  in,  or  falling  down  stairs,  etc. 
Besides  being  cured  of  that,  they  acquire  a  far  better  atti- 
tude towards  life  in  general,  and  much  more  energy.  That 's 
one  of  the  big  things  analysis  does  —  releases  energy  from 
the  unconscious  where  it  has  been  tied  up,  unavailable  for 
daily  use.  And  they  learn  to  "sublimate"  that  energy  into 
some  useful  channel  —  or  work. 

I  have  a  new  case  —  was  sent  for  today  to  start  it  —  an 
awfully  good  case  —  can't  walk  and  shakes  all  over  — 
could  n't  have  treatment  until  No.  34  was  open.  Will  tell 
you  more  about  it  later. 

May  5,  1917 

No.  34  is  simply  lovely  —  you  ought  to  see  how 
charming  it  is  —  full  up  —  and  there  is  a  waiting  list.  We 
already  need  another  house  and  hope  to  have  one  later.   1 


ii6  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

could  not  get  my  Gallipoli  case  in  at  No.  34,  to  go  on  with 
his  treatment,  which  had  to  stop  because  he  hves  so  far 
away.  A  pound  a  week  would  pay  his  board  at  No.  34, 
and  he  could  have  daily  treatments  at  the  Clinic.  It  was  a 
pity  for  him  to  stop  —  for  his  family  said  he  was  already 
better,  even  after  so  short  a  time. 

Of  course,  no  one  is  interested  these  days  in  anything  but 
soldiers  —  and  it 's  hard  sometimes  on  our  poor  civilian 
patients!  A  serious  case  at  the  Clinic  is  a  girl  who  takes 
bromides  and  veronal.  The  League  is  paying  her  board  at 
No.  34  for  a  month,  while  she  has  treatment  daily  from 
Dr.  Hector  Munro.  Such  a  nice  girl  —  but  mad  with 
nerves  and  the  phobia  that  she  can't  stand  closed-in  rooms 
unless  heavily  drugged  —  "claustrophobia,"  it  is  called. 
Another  nice  girl,  one  of  my  new  patients,  is  living  at  No. 
34  —  I  forget  whether  I  wrote  you  about  her.  It  is  "con- 
version hysteria"  —  called  that  because  the  trouble  is 
converted  from  mental  into  physical  symptoms.  It  will  be 
more  interesting  when  1  can  report  an  improvement.  She 
is  quite  young,  married  to  an  interned  German  —  enough 
to  upset  any  one! 

Did  I  tell  you  of  the  patient  who  had  (apparent)  Graves' 
Disease  —  weighed  two  hundred  pounds,  and  had  the 
staring  eyes,  quick  pulse,  and  other  symptoms?  It  was 
supposed  to  be  organic,  but  after  trying  analysis  at  the 
Clinic,  in  four  and  a  half  months  the  patient  was  weighing 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  117 

one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds,  eyes  and  pulse  normal, 
and  was  back  at  work,  bursting  with  spirits  and  energy. 

May  19,  1917 

I  have  four  hours  of  work  every  afternoon  at  the 
Clinic  —  except  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  when  so  far  1  have 
only  two.  My  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sunday  are  my  only 
real  rest  —  and  1  can't  be  going  away  every  week-end.  It 's 
too  tiring,  especially  as  traveling  now  is  not  what  it  used 
to  be  —  few  trains,  very  crowded  always  and  slow.  Three 
of  my  patients  have  been  in  very  difficult  stages  —  which 
takes  it  out  of  one. 

Food  is  very  limited  now.  One  gets  enough  —  plenty  — 
but  very  little  sugar,  and  other  things  strictly  limited.  1 
am  trying  the  secretaryship  of  the  League  for  at  least  six 
months.  I  doubt  if  1  can  carry  it  on  next  winter,  for  the 
Clinic  work  will  be  much  harder  than  this  year.  They  are 
raising  the  standard,  and  intend  it  to  be  a  three-year,  in- 
stead of  a  two-year  course! 

Thrilling  things  are  in  the  air,  to  do  with  shell-shock  and 
the  Clinic  (shell-shock  cases  discharged  from  the  army 
unfit  for  service).  Nothing  can  be  done  or  decided  until 
after  Whitsunday,  and  if  anything  happens  1  will  then  tell 
you  all  —  otherwise  1  will  save  my  breath,  as  it's  only 
interesting  if  it  comes  off!  I  hope  and  pray  it  will. 


ii8  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

May  30,  191 7 
I  had  a  much-needed  rest  over  Whitsunday.  Visit- 
ing is  quite  different  now  from  in  peace  times!  —  very  few 
servants,  and  such  simple  food.  No  pleasure  motoring  — 
and  the  driveways  and  stable-yards  all  weeds!  Lawns  cut 
only  close  to  the  house,  etc.    In  other  words,  no  frills! 

I  forgot  to  say  I  've  been  having  more  analysis  from  Dr. 
Jessie  Murray,  about  twice  a  week,  and  am  now  nearing 
the  end.  It  is  a  great  help  in  doing  my  practical  work. 
The  head  analyst  said  to  one  of  the  doctors  that  both 

Mrs.  P and  I,  who  are  farther  on  than  the  others  in  our 

own  analysis,  show  the  result  and  benefit  of  it  in  our  work. 
Several  of  your  friends  have  said  how  evidently  my  work 
is  agreeing  with  me  —  and  to  tell  you  how  well  I  look. 

I  have  been  elected  "rep."  —  which  means  "students' 
representative."  All  complaints  are  brought  to  me,  and  I 
represent  our  interests  and  point  of  view  to  the  Heads. 
Not  an  easy  job  for  the  go-between,  I  foresee! 

It  is  very  nice  that  Dr.  L and  other  American  doc- 
tors are  to  pass  through  London.  I  should  like  them  to  take 
up  our  work  as  a  branch  of  their  own  —  they'll  need  to  — 
it  is  coming  in  more  and  more. 

June  6,  191 7 

Much  has  been  happening.  Lady  C has  given 

Dr.  Murray,  through  me,  an  introduction  to  Mrs.  Parker, 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  119 

who  asked  her  to  lunch.  Then  Dr.  M.  asked  Mrs.  P. 
to  lunch  at  No.  34,  to  see  it  and  the  Clinic  —  she  came 
yesterday  —  and  saw  it  all  —  and  loved  it.  This  starts 
the  machinery,  as  the  point  of  Mrs.  Parker's  coming  is  that 
she,  with  Sir  Frederic  Milner,  is  at  the  head  of  an  associa- 
tion in  memory  of  Lord  Kitchener,  for  providing  for  shell- 
shock.  Money  has  been  promised  us,  and  a  place  in  the 
country  as  soon  as  we  can  secure  the  men  —  but  you 
know  what  awful  red  tape  there  is.  Mrs.  Parker  is  just 
the  person  to  send  us  men,  and  she  is  going  to  consult  with 
Sir  Frederic,  who  is  President  of  the  Association.  As  soon 
as  the  men  are  sure,  Dr.  Hector  Munro  can  get  money, 
also  the  farm  which  has  been  offered.  So  everything  is 
booming! 

Your  cable  came  yesterday  —  and  we  will  put  my  Galli- 
poli  boy  into  No.  34.  They  find  the  men  can't  be  boarded 
under  two  pounds  a  week  —  as  food  has  gone  up  so  much. 

I  have  a  new  patient  this  week  —  a  discharged  Tommy. 
He  had  four  months  of  analysis  last  year,  was  better  and 
had  eight  or  nine  months  in  the  army,  and  is  now  dis- 
charged. Analysis  helped  him  so  much  that  he  has  come 
back  to  finish  —  his  trouble  is  lack  of  concentration  and 
poor  memory. 

More  money  is  needed  for  No.  33  —  the  house  adjoining 
34  —  to  be  used  for  shell-shock  in  connection  with  the 
farm  near  London,  where  there  are  work-shops.  The  farm 


120  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

has  been  offered  free  —  in  case  we  can  get  money  to  run  it 
in  connection  with  the  house  in  town.  The  work-shops  will 
be  just  the  thing  for  shell-shock!  If  we  don't  get  the  money 
soon  —  we  shall  lose  No.  33,  I  am  afraid.  There  is  to  be  an 
Anglo-American  Fund,  which  is  starting  already. 

June  12,  191 7 

It  is  not  easy  to  find  time  to  write.  I  'm  at  the  Clinic 
every  day  from  2  or  2.30  on,  and  if  I  am  late,  starting  late 
means  late  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  for  my  patients  dovetail 
in  one  after  the  other.  Sometimes  I  can  reserve  fifteen 
minutes  for  tea  if  a  patient  can  be  dismissed  promptly  at 
4.15,  and  the  next  one  comes  at  4.30,  but  more  often  I  can 
only  snatch  a  cup  on  the  run. 

I  am  busy  over  the  League,  straightening  out  and  sorting 
things  —  and  the  little  assistant  secretary  at  the  Clinic 
is  delighted  to  do  any  typewriting  whatever  for  me.  The 
financial  part  passes  through  my  hands  too.  Mrs.  Stoddart, 
wife  of  Dr.  S.,  is  our  treasurer.  Will  you  join  the  League? 
—  of  course  you  will !  And  1  shall  put  you  down  for  ten 
shillings  a  year,  as  it  takes  too  long  to  wait  and  hear  from 

you.  I  want  K and  S to  join  too,  and  will  write  to 

them.  The  lowest  is  two  shillings  a  year,  but  most  people 
pay  more.   Small  amounts  help. 

There  were  fifty-four  treatments  given  at  the  Clinic  in 
one  day,  last  week.   It's  growing  fast. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  121 

There  are  two  shell-shock  cases  who  are  both  simply  new 
men.  One,  an  ex-officer,  had  constant  ideas  of  suicide  and 
took  no  interest  in  anything  —  and  now  is  keen  about 
things,  and  trying  to  buck  up  other  men  at  the  Ex-Officers' 
Club,  where  he  lives.  When  he  finishes  his  treatment,  he 
will  probably  join  up  again.  A  second  case  of  shell-shock 
is  a  man  who  had  a  suicidal  mania  —  and  also  the  fear  of 
strangling  his  wife.  He  is  so  much  better  that  he  has 
gone  back,  and  cannot  continue  his  treatment  at  present. 
That's  the  trouble  with  so  many  —  they  have  to  work  as 
soon  as  they're  better  and  feel  they  can.  A  third  is  an  ex- 
Tommy  who  has  neurasthenia.    , 

My  patient  who  could  n't  walk  is  much  better  —  shufTles 
along  with  a  stick,  and  has  lost  other  symptoms  altogether 
—  is  so  happy  about  it. 

June  20,  191 7 

This  is  a  hectic  letter,  written  at  midnight  for  the 
early  post.  Good  news  —  a  man  has  guaranteed  us  some 
money,  enough  to  take  on  No.  33.  Of  course  that's  only  a 
beginning  —  money  is  needed  to  staff  it  and  run  it.  The 
house  is  furnished  and  ready  to  move  into.  The  man  who 
is  giving  the  money  has  given  before  to  the  Clinic,  and 
helped  it  on  a  lot  at  the  start.  There's  a  hitch  about  some 
kink  in  the  lease,  but  it  is  to  be  settled  tomorrow,  and 
unless  that  one  detail  proves  unsurmountable,  all  is  well. 


122  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

I  've  barely  heard  the  gist  of  it  all,  in  a  hurry  —  we  are  so 
thrilled!  No.  32  would  do  equally  well,  but  would  cost 
much  more,  etc. 

It's  just  as  safe  to  go  to  America  for  my  holiday  as  to 
stay  —  for  London  is  n't  going  to  be  a  haven  of  safety  this 
summer.  Did  I  write  you  that  I  was  in  the  last  raid?  Four 
planes  went  directly  over  the  Clinic  —  we  could  see  them, 
and  hear  the  engines  and  bombs  and  guns.  I  was  n't  a  bit 
frightened  at  the  time,  but  felt  it  afterwards.  And  for  a 
few  days  at  every  noise  in  the  distance,  I  thought  "it's  a 
raid"  —  a  horrid  jumpy  feeling! 

I  was  lunching  with  G and  S ,  and  they  tackled 

me  on  looking  thin  —  as  if  I  did  n't  eat  enough!  Of  course 

I  do  —  but  one  can't  always  get  all  one  could  eat,  by  any 

means! 

June  26,  19 1 7 

I  am  back  from  the  week-end  in  Sussex,  where  they 
fed  me  up  marvellously  with  all  the  delicacies  —  I  really 
was  hungry! !  We  could  hear  the  guns  in  France  distinctly 
all  night  —  a  push  was  on  —  and  one  night  they  almost 
kept  me  awake,  not  the  noise,  of  course,  but  the  sort  of 
vibration.  Some  places  near  by  in  Sussex  don't  hear  it,  and 
others  do. 

Many  thanks  for  the  posters  which  I  loved  seeing.  I 
have  given  them  to  Mrs.  Stuart  Wilson,  as  she  has  some 
American  Tommies  to  visit,  who  enjoy  them. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  123 

Two  hundred  pounds  or  more  is  promised  for  No.  33.  An 
Admiral's  wife,  friend  of  Dr.  Hector  Munro,  is  so  inter- 
ested in  our  work  siie  is  going  to  try  to  get  her  husband  to 
send  us  naval  shell-shock  cases.  But  it  is  all  held  up  by 
red  tape. 

The  League  is  having  such  a  lot  of  expenses  that  it  is 
getting  very  low  in  funds.  After  paying  four  pounds  for  an 
invalid  chair  for  two  Clinic  patients  who  can't  walk  (the 
kind  of  chair  adapted  for  going  up  and  down  stairs),  we 
shall  have  just  thirty-three  shillings  left  —  is  n't  it  sad!  I 
have  got  in  sixteen  new  members  already  —  one  of  whom 
gave  a  guinea.  The  League  is  paying  partial  board  at  No. 
34  for  three  patients  who  need  to  be  there,  as  their  home 
conditions  are  bad  —  and  they  cannot  pay  entirely  them- 
selves. We  are  concocting  a  letter  now,  to  be  sent  out  when 
we  see  what  can  be  said  about  the  new  house.  No.  33. 

Mr.  Balfour  has  given  his  name  to  our  Clinic  as  a  patron 
—  isn't  it  splendid!    Cecil  Dormer  had  talked  with  him 

about  it  while  they  were  in  America  —  he  is  Mr.  B 's 

private  secretary,  you  know.  Lady  Glenconner  is  having 
a  drawing-room  this  week,  at  which  Dr.  Stoddart  and  Dr. 
Jessie  Murray  and  others  are  to  speak.  No.  34  has  helped 
on  our  work  a  lot;  it  is  so  charming  and  every  one  who  sees 
it  approves  of  our  methods.  Nothing  succeeds  like  success, 
does  it? 


124  /^  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

JulyS,  191 7 
I  was  in  the  thick  of  the  raid  yesterday  —  here  in 
Dover  Street  they  went  directly  overhead  —  and  it  was 
rather  ghastly,  hearing  the  bombs  coming  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  knowing  the  horrors  they  must  be  causing  — 
and  wondering  if  one's  self  would  be  the  next.  I  was  nearly 
dressed,  and  when  I  saw  the  street  clearing  rapidly  of  peo- 
ple, every  one  going  under  cover,  I  thought  I  'd  better  go 
down.  Just  then  the  Secretary  of  the  Club  knocked  at  my 
door,  and  said,  "There's  a  whole  fleet  overhead,  you'd 
better  go  to  the  cellar."  I  had  an  absurd  feeling  of  wanting 
to  pin  my  collar  and  cuffs  properly,  but  I  solemnly  col- 
lected a  few  valuables  and  went  down,  hating  to  think  that 
if  my  room  were  smashed  I  might  lose  all  my  notes  and 
books,  and  all  the  accessories  of  my  work!  I  found  a  lot  of 
people  in  the  lower  hall,  and  I  did  n't  see  a  sign  of  nerves 
or  fright  in  any  one,  though  a  few  looked  white.  I  don't 
know  how  I  looked,  but  I  felt  white  —  and  tired  after- 
wards. It  is  so  awful  to  think  that  other  people  are  get- 
ting killed  or  hurt,  even  if  you  are  n't  yourself.  Soon  it 
was  all  over,  and  every  one  scattered.  One  aeroplane 
looked  like  a  silver  butterfly  in  the  air  —  with  the  sun  on 
it.  There  were  twenty  or  thirty,  but  they  were  too  directly 
overhead  —  and  the  roof  and  glare  of  the  sun  prevented 

our  seeing  them  well.  J D 's  baby  was  in  the  Park 

with  his  nurse,  and  the  concussion  of  the  anti-aircraft  guns 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  125 

blew  his  pram  over  twice  before  the  nurse  could  get  him 
away.  She  took  refuge  in  a  house  in  Park  Lane,  and  had  a 
heart  attack!  The  worst  of  the  raids  is  that  after  you've 
been  in  one  or  two,  you  are  always  thinking  you  hear 
another! 

July  21,  191 7 

There  are  guns  going  tonight  —  distant  ones  —  I 
often  hear  them  here  in  my  room.  There's  a  b-oo-m  now! 
—  it's  extraordinary  how  guns  in  France  are  heard  here  so 
distinctly,  in  parts  of  London. 

One  evening   I   arrived  late  —  after  the  week-end  at 

M ,  about  midnight,  as  our  train  got  in  very  late  — 

and  a  lot  of  men  were  lined  up,  half  filling  the  huge  station, 
just  off  to  the  front.  It  made  me  feel  very  choky  —  no 
bands  or  fuss  —  just  silence. 

I  have  been  more  busy  than  you  can  think  —  what  with 
all  my  patients,  and  the  exam  just  over,  and  League  work. 
I  had  intended  to  go  away  for  this  week-end,  but  I  simply 
could  n't  face  the  train  journey.  Am  very  tired  after  the 
exam,  and  must  have  a  quiet  Sunday. 

The  exam  was  very  difficult  —  but  interesting,  and  1  al- 
most enjoyed  it.  We  had  all-embracing  questions  such  as: 
"In  what  sense,  if  any,  do  you  consider  it  justifiable  to 
speak  of  unconscious  mental  life?"  A  whacking  one,  for  it 
entailed  a  long  discussion  of  the  theories  of  such  men  as 


126  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Bergson,  Locke,  James,  Descartes,  Schopenhauer,  Hart- 
mann,  Herbart,  Fechner,  etc.,  etc.  —  not  in  detail,  very 
superficially,  of  course  —  tracing  how  they  came  to  recog- 
nize the  existence  of  the  unconscious  mental  processes. 

Then,  "  In  what  ways  is  it  possible  to  demonstrate  experi- 
mentally the  existence  of  unconscious  mental  processes?" 
That  was  a  whacker  too,  entailing  an  account  of  discov- 
eries made  through  hypnosis,  Janet's  theories  and  experi- 
ments on  hysteria,  and  so  on  —  working  up  to  Brewer's 
and  Freud's  discoveries,  their  theories  of  dissociation,  and 
their  introduction  of  the  "cathartic"  method  —  the  be- 
ginning of  psycho-analysis.  Another  was,  "To  what  extent 
and  in  what  ways  is  it  possible  to  regard  various  forms  of 
mental  disease  as  'regressions'  to  an  earlier  stage  of  men- 
tal development?"  And  another,  "In  what  ways  is  the 
study  of  mythology  of  use  in  abnormal  psychology?" 

These  will  give  you  an  idea ! 

Nothing  has  materialized  yet  out  of  Mrs.  Parker's  visit. 
But  as  soon  as  we  really  get  No.  33  we  shall  let  her  know. 

Sunday  July  22,  1 9 1 7 

The  Clinic  has  given  more  than  thirty-six  hundred 
consultations  and  treatments  in  six  months  —  not  bad,  is 
it?  Of  course  a  lot  of  doctors  on  our  Staff  are  now  at  the 
front,  you  know. 

I  find  that  I  could  go  home  to  America  —  and  our  Em- 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  127 

bassy  says  there's  no  doubt  about  my  being  able  to  return 
here  to  my  work.  As  for  U-boats  or  air-raids,  it 's  six  of  one, 
half  a  dozen  of  the  other!  I  think  I'd  better  not  go.  I 
would  n't  hesitate  if  there  were  any  real  need,  but  it 's 
different  when  one  goes  only  for  pleasure.  Dr.  Murray  sa}'s 
I  must  take  a  two-months  holiday  —  to  be  fresh  for  the 
autumn.   So  1  am  going  to  have  a  fortnight  now,  and  the 

whole  month  of  September.    G and  I  are  taking  a 

house  for  a  fortnight  —  from  next  Friday  —  a  charming 

cottage  (near  Southampton)  belonging  to  Mrs.   Y , 

with  gardens,  sea-bathing,  sleeping-porch,  pony  and  trap, 

etc.    Mrs.  B will  be  there  with  us,  and  her  husband, 

who  is  due  on  leave  from  France.   It  will  be  very  nice.  The 

Y s  are  away  for  only  a  fortnight  —  and  they  let  to  us 

because  we  are  weary  war-workers  1 

Another  air-raid  this  morning,  which  woke  me  at  8.30. 
They  were  driven  off  quickly  —  and  the  noise  only  lasted 
about  ten  minutes. 

We've  taken  over  No.  33  —  but  can't  have  possession 
until  the  autumn.  At  present  it  is  empty,  awaiting  a  thor- 
ough cleaning.  Mrs.  Fisher  Unwin  came  to  see  it  all  a  few 
days  ago,  and  Dr.  Murray  had  me  take  her  over  No.  34. 
She  is  wife  of  the  publisher  —  and  has  offered  us  a  place  in 
Sussex  for  the  duration  of  the  war,  for  war-shock.  But  it 
may  be  too  inaccessible  —  just  as  the  farm  and  work- 
shops turned  out  to  be  —  in  these  times  with  no  motors  or 


128  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

petrol !  Three  country  places  have  been  offered  us  in  all  — 
but  all  too  far  from  London.  And,  besides,  we  must  get 
No.  33  going  before  taking  on  more  expense.  We  can 
and  must  get  a.  house  and  grounds  given  us  —  nearer 
London. 

The  Clinic  is  sending  out  a  circular  announcing  our 
"Proposed  Immediate  Extension"  for  ex-sailors  and  sol- 
diers —  including  three  houses  directly  adjoining  the 
Clinic  in  Brunswick  Square  and  a  house  and  grounds  for 
convalescence  in  the  environs  of  London.  The  appeal  is 
for  £25,000.  These  are  some  of  the  grounds  for  making 
the  appeal:  —  , 

1.  Many  nervous  disabilities  are  covered  by  the  term 
"war-shock,"  and  the  methods  of  the  ordinary  hospital 
are  of  little  or  no  avail  in  these  cases. 

2.  If  retained  in  hospitals,  notwithstanding  the  small 
amount  of  benefit  they  receive,  they  occupy  valuable  space 
urgently  needed  for  medical  and  surgical  cases. 

3.  The  Medico-Psychological  Clinic  provides  the  treat- 
ment they  require.  In  its  resources  are  included  the  Medi- 
cal, Electrical,  and  Physical  equipment  used  in  other  insti- 
tutions for  treatment  of  nervous  cases.  It  is  at  present  the 
only  Institution  in  this  country  offering  the  modern  psy- 
chological treatment,  which  is  available  only  in  a  few  of 
the  army  hospitals  —  etc.,  etc. 


PS  YCHO-ANAL  YSIS  1 29 

August  15,  191 7 
Today  our  Sammies  marched  through  London.    It 
was  thrilHng  to  see  the  American  and  British  flags  flying 
in  celebration. 

What  do  you  suppose  1  am  starting!  —  coaching  in 
mathematics,  as  there  is  no  study  now,  and  I  have  a  month 
before  I  go  away  again  for  a  rest  before  the  new  term  opens 
(on  October  9).  There  is  a  splendid  coach,  a  cured  ex- 
patient  of  the  Clinic  —  and  luckily  she  is  n't  too  busy  now 
to  take  me  three  times  a  week.  I  am  working  at  the  Clinic 
as  usual,  from  2.30  till  about  7  every  day. 

I  added  up  today  that  I  have  collected  over  £33  for  the 
League  since  1  became  Honorary  Secretary  —  and  it  has 
been  largely  in  half-crowns  and  five  shiUings.  It's  really 
only  half-a-crown  to  join,  though  many  give  five  shillings. 

If  you  will  tell  people,  more  might  join.    Mrs.  H 

W has  just  sent  me  a  big  subscription. 

I  am  very  pleased  that  among  the  responses  to  the  letters 
I  sent  out,  there  has  come  a  five-pound  check  for  the  Clinic 
from  a  Matron  of  a  London  War  Hospital  (an  Honorary 
Matron  for  during  the  war),  with  a  charming  letter  saying 
she  felt  so  strongly  the  need  for  the  proper  treatment  of 
war-shock  that  she  would  like  to  help  in  the  extension  of 
our  work.  She  and  I  have  exchanged  several  letters  since, 
and  she  is  coming  tomorrow  to  see  the  Clinic,  and  bringing 
her  Sister-in-charge  with  her.  I  have  arranged  an  appoint- 


130  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

merit  for  her  with  one  of  the  doctors.  She  wrote  that  her 
experience  has  shown  her  that  the  men  need  continued 
treatment,  not  the  "month's  rest  and  tonic"  that  is  so 
often  considered  adequate!  She  will  be  pleased  with  the 
Clinic,  for  we  do  just  what  she  is  looking  for. 

We  now  have  one  of  the  Bishops  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land as  a  patron,  and  hope  to  have  Cardinal  Bourne,  who 
knows  one  of  our  Staff. 

Here  is  our  list  of  patrons  up  to  date:  — 

The  Rt.  Honble.  Arthur  Balfour,  M.P.,  Lord  Glencon- 
ner,  Lady  Glenconner,  Lord  Leconfield,  The  Dowager 
Lady  Leconfield,  Lady  Sutherland,  The  Countess  of 
Wemyss,  His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Westminster,  The  Rt. 
Rev.  The  Bishop  of  Winchester,  The  Countess  of  Yar- 
borough. 

You  ask  about  American  war-shock.    I  don't  know 

whether  any  will  be  treated  in  England.  Mr.  X of  the 

Embassy  told  me  one  day  that  none  of  our  wounded  are 
to  come  to  England  at  all  —  so  1  imagine  what  he  said 
covers  war-shock  as  well. 

August  19,  1917 

My  patients  are  getting  on  splendidly.  The  one 
who  could  n't  walk  shuffles  now  with  positive  agility,  and 
is  greatly  pleased  with  analysis.  I  have  a  new  patient  as 
well,  who  started  two  days  ago.  I  get  perfectly  good  food. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  131 

so  you  are  not  to  worry!  I  have  malted  tablets  with  me 
at  the  Clinic,  in  case  of  need. 

London  is  lovely  now,  sunny  and  cool,  unusual  weather 
for  August  —  everything  pretty  empty,  as  people  who  can 
are  away,  if  only  for  a  week  or  two. 

Dined  with  R at  the  Berkeley  the  other  night  —  a 

highly  camouflaged  dinner  —  as  expensive  as  ever  and 

nothing  to  eat. 

August  30,  1917 

As  for  a  description  of  our  work  "which  could  be 
grasped  by  the  lay  mind,"  there  is  no  such  thing  — so  I 
take  good  care  not  to  write  one!  Nobody  can  understand  it 
until  they've  experienced  it  —  that's  why  every  one  must 
be  analyzed  before  they  can  become  analysts.  People  think 
that  to  read  the  literature  on  psycho-analysis  is  enough  to 
enable  them  to  judge  of  it.  They  write  profound  criticisms 
which  are  of  very  little  value,  and  the  youngest  student  at 
our  Clinic  who  has  undergone  analysis  knows  more  about 
it  than  they  do! 

One  reason  why  Freud  has  been  so  criticized  is  because 
he  says  comparatively  little  of  sublimation,  which  is  really 
the  main  point  of  analysis.  Sublimation  is  the  raising  of 
the  moral  tone  —  the  discharge  of  energy  at  a  higher  level 
—  and  that  is  what  analysis  makes  possible.  Analysis 
brings  up  into  consciousness  the  conflicts  which  are  caus- 
ing trouble,  and  using  up  energy  in  the  unconscious.  These 


132  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

conflicts  then  come  under  the  control  of  the  subject's  will 
power,  and  can  be  solved  in  consciousness.  This  process 
naturally  brings  about  a  more  satisfactory  adjustment  to 
environment,  and  does  away  with  much  waste  of  energy 
due  to  repression.  Such  repression  has  been  of  no  moral 
value,  because  it  was  unconscious. 

I  am,  as  "rep,"  trying  to  pick  up  second-hand  things  for 
our  new  Common  Room.  It  is  the  big  front  basement- 
room  at  the  Clinic,  formerly  the  sitting-room  of  the  Secre- 
tary, and  we  students  are  rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  a 
Common  Room  to  ourselves,  to  have  tea  and  sit  about  in. 
The  room  is  charming,  big  and  airy  and  light,  though  in  the 
basement  —  an  oak  dresser  set  into  the  wall,  etc.  We  want 
to  have  it  very  simple,  in  the  style  of  No.  34  —  plain  imita- 
tion-oak tables  and  chairs,  and  plenty  of  big  comfy  arm- 
chairs. The  little  tables  will  be  in  quiet  corners,  for  writ- 
ing up  our  Clinic  notes,  and  we  shall  have  lockers  to  keep 
our  papers  in.  As  our  numbers  increase,  all  this  is  neces- 
sary. We  shall  have  a  tea-club,  the  practical  side  of  it  run 
by  the  little  clerk  of  the  laboratory,  Miss  Brownjohn.  We 
now  pay  the  Clinic  for  our  tea,  fourpence  a  time,  but  it  will 
cost  us  less  probably  as  a  tea-club!  I  have  so  far  only  got  a 
pair  of  dark  blue  armchairs,  second-hand  but  perfectly 
clean  and  comfortable,  for  thirty-five  shillings  each  —  a 
bargain!  Will  you  give  five  pounds  for  more  easy-chairs? 
I  know  you  will,  and  have  told  Dr.  Murray  so. 


PSYCHO-ANALYSIS  133 

The  fact  that  they  give  warning  now  of  raids  is  a  relief  — 
although  the  warning  is  nearly  as  bad  as  a  raid  and  gener- 
ally causes  a  few  deaths  from  shock,  among  people  with 
weak  hearts!   But  for  the  rest  of  us  it's  a  benefit. 

Sister  Vera  is  Assistant  Matron  at  the  Royal  Flying 
Corps  Hospital  and  is  now  in  charge  for  a  few  weeks  while 
the  Matron  is  away.  She  rang  up  yesterday  to  ask  if  1 
could  n't  go  there  for  a  month  as  pro.,  but  of  course  I 
can't  —  I  wish  I  could! 

CABLEGRAM 

London,  September  6,  1917 
Postponing  Clinic  work  until  January.    With  doctor's 
approval  going  drive  ambulance  front.  Attached  French 
Army.  Starting  about  seventeenth.   You  come  Paris  later. 

Dexter. 


IV.  FRANCE 


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SKETCH  MAP  OF  A   PART  OF  THE  WESTERN  FRONT 


London,  September  lo,  1917 

Dearest  Mother:  — 

Isn't  it  all  very  exciting!  1  heard  of  the  chance 
through  Dr.  Hector  Munro,  but  hardened  my  heart  at 
first,  and  said  1  could  n't  possibly  go  on  account  of  my 
work  here.  However,  I  went  to  see  Miss  Lowther  who  is 
head  of  the  Unit,  now  at  home  on  leave,  and  she  said  she 
would  take  me  for  three  months,  instead  of  the  four  which 
is  the  usual  limit.  So  1  decided  to  go.  Of  course,  if  No.  33 
were  running,  full  of  war-shock  patients,  I  would  n't  dream 
of  it,  as  I  should  be  needed  here.  But  as  it  is  I  can  be 
spared  now,  and  can  make  up  next  year  this  autumn  term 
that  I  lose.  Dr.  Murray  advised  me  strongly  to  go —  she 
feels  I  have  worked  so  hard  that  a  complete  change  and 
outdoor  life  will  do  me  a  world  of  good.  Of  course,  as  you 
know,  it  has  been  hard  to  settle  down  in  London  to  work, 
when  I  was  aching  for  a  bit  more  of  active  service,  and  it 
seems  almost  too  good  to  be  true,  to  get  this  opportunity 
to  go  abroad  without  interfering  with  my  real  work.  It's 
like  eating  one's  cake  and  having  it  too! 

It's  the  Hackett-Lowther  Unit  I  am  joining  —  Miss 
H.  runs  the  canteen,  and  Miss  L.  the  motor  part,  which 
consists  of  about  eighteen  ambulances.  The  Unit  is  offi- 
cially attached  to  the  French  Army,  by  special  permission 


138  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

of  General  Petain  himself,  the  first  women  to  be  so  attached. 
Miss  Lowther  ranks  as  second  Heutenant.  The  uniform  is 
very  smart  —  khaki,  of  course.  Coat  like  British  officers' 
tunics,  with  big  square  pockets  and  a  leather  belt  —  but  no 
leather  shoulder  strap.  Short  skirt,  coming  below  the 
knees,  breeches  underneath,  and  big  high  trench  boots,  with 
thick  soles.  We  have  claret-colored  collars,  with  the  auto- 
mobile grenade  signs  of  the  French  Army  and  a  special  cap 
—  French  military  pattern.  1  can't  have  mine  till  I  get  out 
there,  so  am  obliged  to  travel  in  an  ordinary  soft  khaki 
felt  hat  such  as  the  W.V.R.  wear.  Then  I  have  got  a  big 
trench  coat  (like  what  the  officers  wear)  —  mackintosh 
outside  with  a  detachable  fleece  lining,  which  is  a  coat  in 
itself  for  dry  weather.  The  whole  thing  is  wonderfully 
warm,  and  entirely  waterproof.  Also  fur-lined  gauntlets, 
waterproof  gloves,  waterproof  high  boots,  etc. 

Our  shirts  are  men's  flannel,  with  ordinary  soft  collar  and 
silk  tie,  all  khaki  color.  At  night  we  have  to  wear  very 
warm  flannel  pyjamas  and  bed-socks.  We  take  a  big  sleep- 
ing-bag, a  camp  bed  (army  pattern),  a  rubber  bath,  enamel 
plates,  fork,  spoon,  and  knife,  etc.  For  although  at  our 
headquarters  we  have  comfortable  quarters  and  a  cook  — 
things  will  be  quite  different  as  we  are  sent  forward.  I  am 
taking  meat  tablets  and  Horlick's  malted  milk  tablets, 
cakes  of  chocolate,  and  a  thermos  —  and  a  thousand  other 
little  things  I  can't  remember  at  the  moment.  We  are  al- 


FRANCE  139 

lowed  very  little  luggage,  only  what  one  can  (supposedly) 
carry  one's  self  —  though  1  should  be  sorry  to  have  to  carry 
my  bag,  kit-bag,  and  camp  bed  myself!  I  wish  you  could 
see  my  lovely  boots! 

I  warned  Miss  Lowther  that  I  have  not  had  anything  to 
do  lately  with  the  insides  of  motors  —  but  we  talked  it 
over,  and  she  thinks  1  will  do.  1  got  an  instructor  from  the 
Motor  Schools,  fresh  from  the  front,  and  he  tested  my  driv- 
ing by  putting  me  through  all  sorts  of  stunts,  and  then 
created  break-downs  for  me  to  find  and  put  right.  He  also 
gave  me  good  advice  as  to  goggles  and  odds-and-ends. 

1  gave  our  Ambassador  and  Cecil  Dormer  as  references 
at  the  French  Red  Cross.  They  ask  for  two  men  who  have 
known  one  over  two  years.  I  '11  let  you  know  my  address 
out  there  as  soon  as  I  know  it.  Miss  Lowther  says  letters 
come  by  auto  convois  from  Paris  about  four  times  a  week, 
so  you  must  write  often.  I  'm  afraid  you  won't  be  able  to 
supply  me  with  things  as  you  did  when  I  was  at  La  Panne. 
Miss  Lowther  says  it  took  five  months  once  for  some  tooth 
powder  to  reach  her! 

My  latest  acquisition  is  a  silver  identity  disc  with  my 
name,  Hackett-Lowther  Unit,  and  my  passport  number  on 
it.  We  wear  them  on  our  wrists,  the  same  as  the  soldiers, 
and  they  are  quite  a  chic  form  of  chain  bracelet!  The  Em- 
bassy had  to  cable  to  Washington  to  have  France  put  on 
my  passport,  as  my  latest  one  has  n't  it.   You  can  imagine 


140  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

how  thrilled  I  am  —  I  've  nursed  the  British  and  the  Bel- 
gians, and  am  so  glad  to  have  a  chance  to  do  my  bit  for 
the  French. 

I  miss  my  Clinic  work,  and  would  be  miserable  if  I 
were  n't  soon  coming  back  to  it.  My  patients  were  rather 
upset  when  they  heard  I  would  be  away  three  months,  and 
I  have  had  nice  letters  from  them. 

Lady  X works  at  the  Eagle  Hut  in  the  Strand, 

being  an  American,  and  has  asked  me  to  come  in  and  see  it. 

September  17,  191 7 

I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  the  last  raid  was  at  mid- 
night, and  they  got  us  all  downstairs.  It  was  too  funny  — 
a  sort  of  peignoir  parade  —  fifteen  or  twenty  solemn  and 
dishevelled  women  —  and  in  one  corner  all  the  servants. 
I  would  n't  have  missed  it  for  anything. 

Many  thanks  for  your  cable  of  God-speed,  but  I  am, 
alas,  not  speeded  yet !  Delays  owing  to  papers  still  on  the 
way  from  Paris  —  the  usual  thing,  but  very  tiresome.  All 
my  clothes  are  packed,  as  we  may  start  any  minute,  and  I 
am  wearing  uniform  and  improving  the  shining  hours  by 
having  lessons  in  motor  repairs. 

September  25,  19 17 

I  saw  Miss  Lowther  this  morning.  The  papers  have 
come  —  and  1  could  go  any  day  now,  but  am  to  wait  and 


FRANCE  141 

go  out  with  her.  There  are  two  cars  to  go,  and  she  wants 
me  to  drive  the  second.  So  I  shall  be  here  another  week. 
We  go  to  Southampton,  spend  a  night  on  the  boat  to 
Havre,  and  then  drive  to  Paris  first  —  then  on  to  our  head- 
quarters, it  will  be  fun.  Remember  my  letters  from 
France  will  be  so  censored  that  they'll  be  dull  —  the  only 
interest  will  be  in  the  fact  that  we  shall  be  so  far  front, 
and  that  we're  the  only  women  attached  to  the  French 
Army. 

Last  night  was  the  raidiest  raid  London  has  had  yet.  I 
dare  not  tell  you  any  particulars  —  but  it  was  very,  very 
near  indeed  that  one  bomb  fell  —  the  house  shook.   I  was 

dining  at  the  Sesame  Club  with  Mrs.  A and  we  sat  in 

the  dark  in  the  hall.  We  saw  flashes  overhead,  and  finally, 
when  it  got  too  near  to  be  worth  risking  any  longer,  we 
went  into  a  downstairs  room  where  there  is  the  least  glass. 
The  servants  were  huddled  in  a  corner,  and  one  of  the 
kitchen-maids  fainted.  They  did  n't  even  know  enough  to 
lay  her  on  the  floor  —  so  I  went  to  the  rescue.  There  were 
a  lot  of  ladies  already  there  —  knitting  —  very  nervous, 
but  calm.  One  had  a  small  electric  torch,  and  the  others 
got  thoroughly  incensed  with  her  because  she  would  flash 
it  into  their  faces! 

You  know  the  gardens  that  your  flat  looked  out  on. 
The  house  those  gardens  belong  to  has  n't  a  pane  of  glass 
today ! 


142  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

September  26,  191 7 
I  am  hard  at  it  in  the  mechanical  line  these  days, 
and  luckily  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  very  enterprising 
(French)  instructor,  who  does  not  spare  himself  or  me.  I 
am  having  lessons  every  day  —  mending  inner  tubes  (vul- 
canizing), soldering,  etc.  —  getting  hot  and  dirty.  My 
instructor  puts  things  wrong  with  the  engine  on  the  road, 
and  I  have  to  find  them  —  splendid  practice.  Yesterday 
he  took  the  cap  off  the  hind  wheel  valve,  and  I  had  to 
change  the  stepney  wheel  in  the  road  in  the  blazing  sun. 
He  makes  me  do  it  every  bit  myself,  looking  on  very  criti- 
cally, and  reminding  me,  "the  blesses  are  waiting"!  It  is 
Providence  that  I  had  the  time,  as  I  needed  the  lessons. 
Really  it  was  cheek  on  my  part  to  gaily  offer  myself  as  a 
driver,  knowing  as  little  as  I  did  of  mechanical  repairs! 
Anyhow,  it 's  all  right  now. 

Another  attempt  at  a  raid  last  night  —  but  a  feeble  one. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  have  ever  seen  the  "TAKE  COVER" 
notices  in  the  streets.  I  was  on  top  of  a  bus  on  my  way  to 
dine  in  Chelsea,  when  they  came.  Boys  on  bicycles  bawl- 
ing, "Take  cover!"  —  with  big  placards  from  their  should- 
ers, back  and  front.  A  minute  or  two  later  the  guns  were 
potting  —  quite  near  —  and  I  won't  say  that  I  lingered 

along  the  Embankment  on  my  way  to  Mrs.  B 's  house! 

However,  in  ten  minutes  they  were  driven  off,  and  we 
dined  in  peace. 


FRANCE  143 

Tonight  if  there  is  a  raid  (and  there  will  be  if  the  weather 
permits)  my  instructor,  who  drives  an  ambulance  evenings, 
is  going  to  call  for  me  to  take  me  in  the  Rolls-Royce  am- 
bulance wherever  he  may  go  —  and  1  think  that  as  1  am  in 
uniform,  I  might  be  allowed  to  help.  This  is  the  "raid 
week,"  and  the  Huns  are  reported  to  be  coming  every 
night,  on  account  of  the  moon,  it's  their  last  really  good 
chance  before  the  winter!  And  I  dare  say  that  they  still 
hope  to  terrorize  London.  1  just  wish  they  could  see  the 
calm  way  London  takes  it.  Two  nights  ago,  during  the 
worst  one  London  has  ever  had,  actors  continued  placidly 
to  act,  musicians  did  not  miss  a  note,  though  the  brutes 
were  just  overhead,  and  the  noise  pretty  loud. 

Don't  think  I  am  giving  up  my  Clinic  work  —  this  is 
only  a  holiday  —  the  other  my  life-work.  I  am  missing  it 
already! 

October  2,  191 7 

This  is  an  appalling  week  —  raids  like  clock-work 

every  night.    Mrs.  H 's  butler  inquired  whether  his 

mistress  "would  dine  before  or  after  the  raid"!  That  was 
early  in  the  week  —  now  there  is  no  question  —  every  one 
dines  before,  to  make  sure  of  it !  —  the  servants  being  not 
dependable,  and  no  wonder.  I  have  a  bit  of  shell  and 
shrapnel  which  were  found  on  the  doorstep  —  they  hit 
the  big  closed  doors  of  my  club.  Shrapnel  peppers  every- 


144  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

where,  and  in  Dover  Street  when  there's  a  lull,  the  little 
club  pages  dash  out  and  hunt  for  it! 

October  7,  1 9 1 7 

Thank  fortune,  the  raid  week  is  over!  It  was  a  big 
strain  for  London. 

October  12,  1917 

We  are  off  on  Monday  at  last  —  Miss  Lowther  and 

I  —  after  a  month's  wait.  As  M says,  one  has  yet  to 

hear  of  the  man,  woman,  or  Unit  which  really  started  for 
the  front  at  the  time  proposed  —  nobody  does  it!  Three 
or  four  more  will  follow  in  a  fortnight  with  more  ambu- 
lances. The  Chalmers  is  not  ready,  so  I  am  to  drive  a  new 
car,  a  G.M.C.  (American)  given  to  Miss  Lowther  by  her 
cousin.  Lord  L ,  as  President  of  the  British  Sports- 
men's Association.  I  spent  two  hours  this  afternoon  with 
her  at  the  garage,  learning  its  idiosyncrasies.  It  is  a  lovely 
big  gray  ambulance,  with  Hackett-Lowther  Unit,  French 
Red  Cross,  etc.,  painted  on  it  in  red.  I  have  sheaves  of 
official  documents  from  the  French  Red  Cross  —  a  lot  for 
myself  and  another  lot  for  the  car,  every  detail  of  which  is 
entered  into.  Also  papers  to  insure  special  rates  on  the 
boat,  etc.  They  give  us  our  petrol,  of  course. 


u 

d 


FRANCE  145 

Caiidebec-en-Caiix 

Thursday,  October  19,  1917 

We  started  Monday  from  London,  and  motored  to 
Southampton,  arriving  about  4.30  p.m.  Miss  Lowther's  car 
—  a  six  cylinder  Wolseley  —  could  have  come  much  faster, 
but  my  G.M.C.  is  regulated  to  go  only  twenty-five  miles 
an  hour.  So  she  had  to  hold  back  for  fear  of  losing  me, 
and  I  got  all  her  dust  and  was  as  black  as  a  sweep  when 
we  reached  Southampton!  The  French  Red  Cross  had  re- 
served staterooms  for  us,  and  space  for  the  two  ambu- 
lances, but  we  found  that  owing  to  a  mistake  the  staterooms 
had  not  been  kept,  and  the  boat  very  full.  So  we  passed 
the  night  wrapped  up  in  a  sheltered  corner  of  the  deck.  A 
squall  came  up,  to  help  matters,  and  it  was  too  cold  and 
wet  for  words.  Sea-water  broke  over  the  cars  all  night, 
and  got  into  the  engines  —  and  the  next  morning  at  Havre 
we  had  a  fearful  time  to  start  them.  We  were  so  delayed 
that  we  could  n't  leave  that  day,  as  there  was  a  heap  of 
red  tape  to  go  through.  So  we  spent  Tuesday  night  at  the 
Continental  and  revelled  in  hot  baths  and  real  beds.  I 
had  n't  had  my  clothes  off,  nor  my  big  trench  boots,  for 
thirty-six  hours  —  and  had  gotten  so  horribly  dusty  into 
the  bargain. 

It  was  a  lovely  run  from  Havre  on.  We  did  n't  intend 
to  stop  here,  but  Miss  Lowther  has  suddenly  developed  an 
acute  attack  of  neuritis  or  intercostal  neuralgia.   So  here 


146  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

we  are,  held  up  a  day  or  two,  in  this  enchanting  little  old- 
world  village  on  the  river  Caux.  It  was  an  awful  moment 
when  I  thought  she  had  pleurisy,  in  a  place  like  this  with 
only  a  local  doctor  —  but  she  is  up  today,  a  little  better. 

I  nearly  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  are  not  alone  —  we 
are  accompanied  by  a  pedigree  Pekinese !  1 !  It  is  for 
a  woman  in  Paris  who  does  not  mind  spending  fifty 
pounds  for  a  pet  dog  in  these  times.  I  shall  never  believe 
in  future  that  pedigree  dogs  are  delicate  —  that  this  one 
has  survived  the  trip  proves  an  iron  constitution.  We  have 
done  the  best  we  can  for  it,  but  imagine  a  pet  dog  in  a 
satin-lined  basket,  on  a  trip  like  this!  We  take  turns  carry- 
ing it  into  the  dining-rooms  en  route,  braving  the  amused 
looks  of  people  who  are  obviously  saying  to  themselves, 
"What  fools  some  women  are  —  who  must  even  take  their 
pet  dogs  to  the  front ! !" 

I  like  my  G.M.C.  immensely.  The  front  seat  is  es- 
pecially nice,  as  it  is  very  sheltered,  and  a  sort  of  canvas 
keeps  the  wind  and  rain  off  my  knees  and  arms.  You 
should  have  seen  me  in  my  overalls  yesterday,  underneath 
its  big  body,  oiling! 

Tomorrow  we  go  on  to  Rouen,  though  I  feel  uneasy  about 
Miss  Lowther  travelling  —  and  Sunday  to  Paris.  Miss 
Hackett  is  meeting  us  there,  as  there  is  a  lot  of  red  tape 
about  our  new  cars  before  they  go  to  the  front  —  they 
have  to  be  militarises.    More  drivers  and  cars  come  out 


FRANCE  147 

very  soon  from  England,  so  that  we  shall  be  eighteen 
altogether. 

We  drivers  have  to  have  our  carnets  rouges  from  the 
Ministere  de  la  Guerre.  They  are  red  books  with  one's 
photograph  authorizing  one  to  go  into  the  war  zone. 

Hotel  des  Champs-Ely  sees,  Paris 

IVednesday,  October  24,  191 7 

It  really  is  bad  luck  —  here  we  are  stuck  for  good- 
ness knows  how  long.  Poor  Miss  Lowther  is  in  bed  in  earn- 
est now  with  acute  pleurisy.  1  tried  my  best  to  keep  her 
quietly  at  Caudebec  a  few  days  longer,  but  there  was  no 
holding  her.  1  did  all  1  could  to  spare  her  on  the  trip,  and 
it  was  better  to  get  on  to  where  there  are  doctors.  We 
reached  Rouen  Saturday  afternoon,  and  came  on  here 
Sunday.  That  night  her  temperature  was  over  102  —  and 
the  pain  very  severe  —  and  I  could  n't  get  a  doctor  until 
the  next  morning.  Lord  and  Lady  Esher  (she  is  treasurer 
of  our  Unit)  recommended  a  first-rate  English  doctor 
whom  I  flew  and  got.  Imagine  poor  Miss  Lowther's  feel- 
ings —  just  when  she  is  frantically  busy  completing  her 
Unit.  She  has  had  three  more  cars  offered  since  we  left 
London,  and  the  whole  Unit  is  to  be  militarized  during 
these  days  in  Paris.  Now,  of  course,  it's  all  delayed  — 
and  it  is  maddening  for  her. 

I  found  yesterday  that  she  was  worrying  —  quite  nat- 


148  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

urally,  of  course  —  at  my  being  kept  here  nursing  when  I 
came  out  to  drive  an  ambulance.  She  said  I  must  go  on  to 
the  headquarters  at  Cugny,  but  I  told  her  that  I  love  being 
for  a  bit  in  Paris,  that  I  am  au  fond  even  more  of  a  nurse 
than  a  chauffeuse!  I  have  no  wish  to  stay  in  Paris  when 
I  might  be  at  the  front,  but  of  course  I  will  not  leave  her 
yet.  It  is  particularly  trying  when  my  time  is  limited,  but 
one  must  be  philosophical,  and  live  from  day  to  day. 

Miss  Lowther  has  at  last  got  her  eighteen  ambulances. 
People  say  it  is  one  of  the  biggest  things  women  have  done 
in  the  war  —  to  get  a  whole  motor  section  of  eighteen  cars 
attached  to  the  army. 

Miss  Hackett  is  Irish  —  she  has  been  at  the  front  since 
the  very  beginning,  and  has  the  Croix  de  Guerre  for  look- 
ing after  wounded  in  a  station-yard,  under  bombardment. 

Paris,  October  31,  1917 

Miss  Lowther  has  been  much  worse.  It  was  a  near 
thing  —  and  for  two  days  we  were  all  very  anxious,  but 
now  I  am  glad  to  say  she  is  out  of  danger.  They  finally 
took  her  to  the  Astoria,  the  big  military  hospital  in  the 
Champs  filysees  near  by.  She  is  the  first  woman  who  has 
ever  been  a  patient  there.  They  took  her  on  account  of 
her  belonging  to  the  French  army. 

I  had  to  take  my  car  to  the  work-shop  of  the  British 
Ambulance  two  days  ago,  as  there  were  a  lot  of  things 


FR/INCE  149 

reeding  attention.  The  head  man  showed  me  a  car  which 
was  hit  three  times  by  shells  —  it's  just  a  tousled  mass 
of  twisted  ribbon  now.  Each  time  it  was  hit  they  put  it 
right  —  till  the  third  time  was  too  much!  The  driver 
was  n't  touched.  Another  that  interested  me  was  a  G.M.C., 
a  twin  of  mine,  in  a  state  of  pulp. 

Paris,  November  4,  1917 
Miss   Hackett  returned  last  evening  from  Com- 
pi^gne,  and  brought  me  a  lovely  fat  pile  of  letters. 

Miss  Repton,  our  second  in  command,  and  Miss  G 


arrived  Friday  night  with  the  Daimler  and  the  Chalmers. 
And  now  we,  the  first  batch,  shall  soon  be  militarized  and 
off  for  Cugny. 

We  went  to  order  our  helmets  —  "champignons  de  fer  " 
we  call  them.  The  Army  \^•ould  give  them  to  us,  but  we 
prefer  to  order  an  extra  size,  on  account  of  our  hair  taking 
up  room.  They  are  nasty  heavy  things  held  on  with  a 
strap  under  the  chin,  otherwise  if  one  stooped  or  lay  down 
they'd  fall  off.    1  hear  the  English  ones  are  lighter,  but  I 

did  n't  know  in  time  to  get  one  there.  Miss  G and  two 

others  who  are  coming  out  next  week  are  just  back  from  a 
year  in  Russia  and  Roumania  —  driving  ambulances  — 
where  they  took  part  in  some  of  those  big  retreats,  and  had 
all  sorts  of  thrillingly  interesting  experiences. 

I  have  spent  this  afternoon  buying  sheets  and  pillow- 


150  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

slips  and  blankets  for  refugees.  They  are  reconstructing 
villages  near  Cugny  —  places  the  Huns  destroyed.  Miss 
Hackett  and  the  Eshers  have  just  had  thirteen  hundred 
francs  given  them  for  bedding.  I  got  estimates  for  dozens 
and  dozens,  making  the  money  go  as  far  as  possible,  and 
came  out  within  one  franc  of  the  amount  —  which  amused 
them! 

Paris,  November  15,  191 7 

Just  a  month  today  since  Miss  Lowther  and  I  left 
London!  Who  would  have  dreamed  we  should  still  be  in 
Paris  by  now!  I  must  say  I  have  enjoyed  the  month  here 
immensely,  on  the  whole,  though  it  is  n't  what  I  came  out 
for,  and  I  long  to  get  on  to  work. 

All  the  red  tape  is  finished  now,  and  we  are  a  militarized 
Unit.  You  should  see  our  Statutes!  Each  one  of  us  is 
given  a  copy  of  the  part  which  applies  to  her.  Everything 
is  stated,  to  do  with  the  organization  and  running  of  the 
Unit,  our  duties  and  privileges.  We  are  all  voluntary,  of 
course.  We  have  a  French  army  officer  at  our  head,  over 
Miss  Lowther,  and  an  army  mechanic,  cook,  and  orderly 
attached  to  us.  We  are  given  army  rations,  and  they  allow 
us  to  choose  our  own  billets  (1  forget  the  French  word),  as 
otherwise  what  would  be  given  us  would  be  rougher  and 
dirtier  than  necessary.  We  shall  get  all  the  ravitaillements 
for  the  cars  given  us  —  essence  (as  they  call  petrol),  oil, 


FR/INCE  151 

tires,  etc.  —  and  we  have  a  revitaillement  book  for  each 
car,  in  which  a  record  of  all  supplies  is  entered.  We  can 
leave  only  at  the  end  of  every  six  months,  by  giving  a 
month's  notice  —  while  if  we  are  staying  on,  we  get  four- 
teen days'  leave  every  six  months,  provided  there  are  four 
fifths  of  the  Unit  always  there. 

So  you  see,  1  am  under  martial  law  and  tied  for  six 
months!  If  I  left  before,  1  should  be  shot  at  dawn  for  de- 
sertion! ! !  So  there's  no  doubt  in  regard  to  my  plans. 

1  cabled  yesterday  telling  you  that  1  am  starting  defi- 
nitely on  the  20th. 

This  morning  I  spent  at  the  garage —  "decanting"  es- 
sence out  of  big  barrels  into  little  ordinary  five-litre  bidons 
ready  for  use.  Tomorrow  I  must  get  into  my  overalls,  and 
give  the  G.M.C.  a  thorough  oiling  to  be  ready  for  the  run 
to  Cugny.  She  is  much  more  complicated  as  regards  oiling 
than  most  cars  —  not  like  the  Fords  which  need  so  little 
care. 

A  thing  that  entertains  me  greatly  here  is  the  way  people 
speak  to  us  on  account  of  our  being  in  uniform.  The  other 
day  we  had  the  cars  out  to  go  to  the  other  side  of  Paris  and 
bring  back  some  huge  bidons  of  essence.  I  was  in  my  ambu- 
lance outside  a  shop  in  the  rue  de  Rivoli,  waiting  for  the 
others  to  join  me,  and  at  least  six  people  spoke  to  me. 
Sometimes  they  know  Miss  Hackett,  or  of  her,  and  want  to 
ask  about  the  work —  sometimes  they  are  just  interested, 


152  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

or  want  to  ask  if  we  know  so-and-so  at  the  front!  One 
French  girl  asked  me  why  I  thought  some  friend  of  hers 
had  n't  been  to  Paris  yet  on  leave! 

Did  I  tell  you  that  all  Paris  takes  lemon  in  its  tea  now? 
—  no  milk  allowed  except  for  invalids  and  babies.  Apart 
from  that,  and  no  cakes  on  Tuesdays  and  Wednesdays, 
you  would  never  think  there  is  a  war  on.  Such  good  food 
and  too  much  of  it  —  all  the  tea-places  packed  as  usual, 
though  with  quite  a  different  lot  of  people,  for  none  of  the 
really  best  French  people  are  to  be  seen  anywhere  — 
they're  all  working. 

Elysee  Palace  Hotel, 

Paris,  November  i8,  191 7 

Just  a  few  lines  tonight.  I  enclose  the  heading  of 
our  Unit  note-paper,  as  it  may  interest  you  to  see  the  defi- 
nition of  our  work:  — 

Hackett-Lowther  Unit 
CEuvRE  Anglaise  D'Utilite  G^nerale 
Ambulances  et  Cantines  aux  Armies 

My  car  had  a  narrow  escape  today.  I  left  her  outside 
the  hotel,  and  when  I  came  out  and  cranked  her,  to  my 
horror  she  started  merrily  off  by  herself  backward  into  the 
Champs  Elysees !  I  had  visions  of  a  crash  in  the  traffic,  and 
chased  her  and  leaped  on  board  —  and  just  stopped  her  at 


FRANCE  153 

the  corner.  A  small  page  had  been  playing  with  the  gears 
while  I  was  in  the  hotel,  and  had  left  them  in  reverse. 

Miss  Lowther  is  much  better  —  she  improved  with  leaps 
and  bounds  as  soon  as  she  began  to  get  the  good  food  here. 
She  is  a  most  attractive  person  —  the  best  fencer  and  ten- 
nis player  in  England,  and  has  beaten  many  Continental 
men  fencers,  in  other  days  she  used  to  play  tennis  with 
the  Kaiser's  sons  and  beat  them  —  which  they  hated! 

She  insisted  on  going  to  the  Alhambra  this  afternoon.  1 
was  sure  it  would  do  her  good,  and  it  did  —  in  a  closed 
taxi,  well  wrapped  up.  A  Frenchman  sitting  just  behind 
us  leaned  forward  and  asked  very  politely  what  we  be- 
longed to  —  so  Miss  Lowther  told  him  we  are  an  Ambu- 
lance Unit  attached  to  the  troisieme  armee,  etc.  "  L'armee 
anglaise,"  he  said  —  and  when  she  explained  it  was 
"l'armee  franfaise,"  he  looked  politely  incredulous!  No 
one  can  believe  it  at  first,  and  small  wonder,  considering 
it  has  only  been  true  ten  days,  and  we  have  n't  begun  work 
yet!  There  are  heaps  of  women  driving  for  the  English 
army,  and  for  the  French  —  an  American  woman  spoke 
to  me  in  the  street  yesterday  who  has  been  chauffmg  for 
the  French  near  Amiens  for  some  months.  But  there  are 
none  who  are  actually  driving  ambulances  attached  to  an 
army,  going  up  to  the  postes  de  secours,  and  under  fire, 
as  we  shall  be. 

Miss  Lowther  and  Mile,  de  M.  start  south  for  Arcachon, 


154  ^^  T'HE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

the  lung  place,  on  Thursday,  and  Miss  Hackett  and  I  are 
staying  to  see  them  off.  Then  me  for  the  Front  —  three 
cheers! 

[On  Active  Service] 

[Cugny,]  November  24,  19 17 

Here  I  am!  Came  through  from  Paris  yesterday, 
bringing  Miss  Hackett  with  me.  We  left  the  gates  of  Paris 
at  1 1.30  and  got  here  at  5.30  (one  hundred  and  thirty  kilo- 
metres), stopping  at  Senlis  for  lunch  and  at  Compiegne  for 
letters.  You  can  imagine  how  thrillingly  interesting  the 
trip  was.  The  minute  one  gets  into  the  war  zone  everything 
changes  —  parts  of  the  country  we  came  through  were  very 
bare,  with  the  remains  of  trenches,  and  not  a  tree  stand- 
ing _  the  sort  of  thing  we  are  all  so  familiar  with  in  the 
cinema  war  pictures.  Miss  Hackett  showed  me  a  bit  that 
for  some  time  had  been  No  Man's  Land.  But  now  one  sees 
the  effects  of  recultivation,  and  in  parts  there  are  beauti- 
fully green  fields.  The  little  inn  where  we  lunched  was  at 
one  time  the  headquarters  of  Von  Kluck  and  Prince  Eitel 
Fritz  —  the  houses  opposite  have  only  their  walls  standing. 
We  passed  through  Noyon  without  stopping.  The  two 
spires  are  beautiful,  rising  above  the  town  — one  is  thank- 
ful the  Hun  has  spared  them.  Then  later  a  little  village 
which  was  absolutely  in  ruins  —  the  silhouette  against  the 
sunset  made  me  think  of  Pompeii.  There  were  trenches 


FRANCE  155 

there  —  crossing  the  road  —  which  have  been  filled  in  just 
lately,  after  the  Boches  were  pushed  back. 

It  was  difficult  driving  as  it  got  dark.  The  huge  dark- 
gray  camions  (trucks)  are  almost  invisible  until  they  are 
close  —  they  carry  no  lights  and  are  very  wide  —  difficult 
to  pass  on  narrow  roads  in  a  sea  of  mud.  I  found  it  quite 
a  strain  on  my  eyes  —  though  one  will  have  to  get  used  to 
it,  of  course.  One  must. 

Our  baraque  is  very  rough,  just  a  long  wooden  shed. 
The  front  door  opens  into  a  living-room,  with  a  dining- 
table,  stove,  etc.,  and  from  it  runs  a  long  narrow  passage 
straight  through,  with  all  our  cubicles  opening  off.  It  is  all 
very  fragile,  of  course  —  you  must  not  lean  against  the 
walls  too  hard!  There  is  a  legend  that  once  when  the  can- 
teen, which  is  a  twin  shed  alongside  of  us,  was  filled  full  of 
poilus,  others,  trying  to  get  in,  nearly  pushed  the  walls 
down  —  they  had  to  be  straightened  the  next  day!  It  does 
not  pretend  to  be  air-tight,  and  imagine  the  cold!  Just 
now  it  is  very  mild,  but  I  am  picturing  to  myself  what  it 
will  be  when  the  weather  changes.  My  first  night  in  my 
sleeping-bag  was  not  a  very  happy  one  —  the  bed  is  nearly 
as  hard  as  the  floor,  and  the  bag  narrow.  However,  one 
gets  accustomed  to  anything.  We  have  rubber  baths,  but 
the  difficulty  is  to  get  more  than  a  tea-cupful  of  hot  water. 
Our  cubicles  are  guiltless  of  furniture,  and  1  brought  an  iron 
table  and  chair  with  me. 


156  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Cugny  is  a  little  village,  somewhat  battered,  five  miles 
from  the  trenches;  but  on  the  whole  the  Huns  left  it  in 
fairly  good  shape.  They  had  to  retire  in  a  great  hurry,  I  am 
told  —  and  had  n't  time  to  do  much  damage.  There  are 
roofless  cottages  all  about  us,  however. 

When  we  got  here  yesterday  the  canteen  was  in  full 
swing,  packed  with  poilus  —  smoking  and  singing  —  the 
gramophone  going  —  and  such  a  noise!  There  is  a  little 
stage  at  one  end  of  the  hall  —  and  a  library  —  and  note- 
paper  for  them  to  write  letters.  It  is  open  from  5.30  to  8 
every  afternoon,  and  on  Sundays  from  2  to  4  as  well  — 
coffee  given  free  —  and  they  love  it.  It  is  generally  differ- 
ent lots  of  men  who  come,  as  they  are  just  going  to,  or  just 
from,  the  trenches. 

[Cugny,]  Sunday,  November  25,  19 17 

The  canteen  is  a  bit  short-handed  today,  as  Miss 
Hackett  and  three  others  had  to  go  to  Noyon,  and  two  more 
are  away  for  a  few  days,  gone  to  Nevers  to  get  a  new  car 
which  has  been  given  us.  So  one  of  the  other  drivers  and  I 
were  left  in  charge  this  afternoon.  I  stayed  at  one  end  of 
the  hall  and  ran  the  gramophone,  and  gave  out  tobacco 

and  games,  and  Miss  G at  the  other  end  distributed 

books  and  note-paper.  There  is  an  orderly  who  is  always 
there  to  help  us.  We  often  get  a  rough  lot  in,  and  occasion- 
ally some  are  drunk,  but  generally  they  are  very  well- 


THE  TWO  BARAQUES 
The  left-hand  one  is  the  canteen 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  CANTEEN 


FRANCE  157 

behaved,  and  if  not,  are  quickly  put  out.  They  love  the 
music,  and  I  had  about  fifty  sitting  at  my  end  hstening. 
It  is  not  the  warmest  place  on  earth  to  sit  for  two  hours, 
no  floor  but  the  ground! !  1  was  glad  of  my  huge  thick 
trench  boots. 

1  wish  you  could  hear  the  roar  outside  going  on  now. 
The  street  is  full  of  soldiers  waiting  for  the  canteen  to  re- 
open at  5.30.  I  must  stop  writing  and  go  back  to  help  with 
the  coffee. 

Later 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  canteen  —  crammed, 
not  an  inch  of  floor-room  anywhere.  There  were  five  hun- 
dred men  in  there,  if  not  more.  Miss  Hackett  thought  they 
might  be  rough,  but  so  far  they  have  been  Iambs,  hushing 
each  other  every  time  a  new  tune  starts  on  the  gramophone. 

It  is  interesting  to  do  a  bit  of  canteen  work,  and  1  enjoy 
it  —  but  we  shan't  have  time,  of  course,  when  we  start  our 
own  work.  We  have  to  keep  our  ambulances  as  best  we 
can,  in  a  barn  here,  and  a  shed  there.  But  we  hear  that 
tomorrow  some  troops  are  moving  on  and  we  are  to  have 
a  better  place.  The  mud  is  very  deep  and  slimv-  ever\'- 
where.  I  scraped  my  car  with  a  stick  to-day  to  get  off  a 
top  layer. 

We  are  not  anything  to  do  with  the  Red  Cross.  They 
helped  us  to  come  out  from  London,  and  provided  our 


158  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

essence,  etc.,  as  far  as  Paris.  But  once  one  is  militarized, 
the  army  does  all  that.  Of  course,  we  have  red  crosses  on 
all  our  ambulances,  back,  sides,  and  top.  Our  Unit  is  so 
well  known  —  the  cars  and  uniform  —  that  our  carnets 
rouges  were  not  looked  at  coming  through  from  Paris. 

[Cugny,]  December  i,  19 17 

Thursday  was  Thanksgiving  Day  —  I  did  n't  re- 
member it  at  the  time,  but  it  happened  that  I  went  to  a 
lunch  that  day.   Miss  Hackett  and  three  of  us  were  invited 

by  the  officer  commanding  the ,  near  here,  in  a  little 

village  ^  which  is  utterly  in  ruins.  It  still  boasts  a  railway 
station,  however,  so  is  important  in  that  way.  We  had 
lunch  in  a  house  with  no  roof  left  —  or  rather  in  a  little 
room,  formerly  a  pantry,  which  had  been  built  on  and  had 
retained  its  roof.  The  officers  sleep  in  baraques  like  ours 
here,  except  that  theirs  are  lined  and  very  warm.  There 
were  ten  of  them,  and  we  had  quite  a  decent  lunch.  Oysters 
(poor),  brains  (sheep!),  cutlets  and  cabbage,  cheese,  jam 
and  coffee.  1  did  n't  know  they  were  brains,  and  thought 
it  quite  a  good  kind  of  sweetbreads! 

We  hear  guns  off  and  on,  but  things  are  quiet  just  now. 
One  doesn't  notice  much  unless  it  is  very  near.  It's 
strange  how  I  don't  mind  them  here  as  1  do  in  London  —  I 
suppose  it's  because  they  "belong"  here.  Sometimes  we 

^  Flavy-le-Martel. 


ONE  OF  THE  CUBICLES 


A   FEW  OF  US 


FR/INCE  159 

go  outside  after  dark  to  watch  the  flashes  of  the  guns  on 
the ^  front,  hghting  up  the  horizon. 

We  had  orders  to  move  in  six  days,  and  I  was  quite  sorry 
• — as  I  had  been  here  so  short  a  time.  But  now  it  has  been 
cancelled  —  one  lives  from  day  to  day  and  never  knows 
what  the  next  hour  will  bring  forth.  1  n  the  meantime  1  am 
settled  rather  comfortably  in  my  cubicle.  1  have  built  a 
luxurious  wash-stand  out  of  empt>'  cartridge  cases  —  also 
something  somewhat  resembling  a  chest  of  drawers! 

We  have  frequent  rain,  and  the  mud  is  like  the  movies  — 
I  can't  say  more!  The  sun  actually  came  out  today,  and 
I  photographed  a  ruined  house  or  two,  near  by  here.  1 
have  n't  much  time,  though,  as  I  am  working  every  day  on 
my  G.M.C.  Being  a  new  car  she  needs  a  lot  of  oiling  and 
greasing  and  you  would  have  laughed  if  you  could  have 
seen  me  this  afternoon  after  an  hour  underneath  her  — 
simply  one  mass  of  oil  and  mud  1  was.  A  hot  bath  would 
be  a  luxury  that  we  don't  allow  ourselves  to  think  of. 

Did  1  tell  you  that  Cugny  was  occupied  for  two  jears  by 
the  Boches  —  they  have  only  been  out  of  the  place  for  five 
or  six  months.  Several  new  drivers  arrived  last  week, 
who  were  with  the  Scottish  Women's  Hospitals  in  Russia 
and  Roumania  and  Serbia. 

It  is  awfully  difficult  to  get  essence  (gasoline).  If  people 
at  home  realized  no  one  would  motor  for  pleasure.  They 

1  St.  Quentin  front. 


^ 


i6o  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

have  a  horrible  way  of  giving  kerosene  in  essence  bidons, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  tell  the  difference,  as  the  essence  is  so 
poor  and  oily  now.  You  will  realize  how  bad  it  is  when  I 
tell  you  that  it  won't  take  oil  spots  out  of  our  clothes  — 
it 's  too  oily  itself.  And  when  we  get  kerosene  by  mistake, 
it  is  maddening  —  most  cars  won't  run  on  it,  and  it  settles 
in  streaks  in  the  tank.  So  sometimes  you  go  all  right,  and 
sometimes  you  don't. 

[Cugny,]  Sunday,  December  2,  19 17 

A  lovely  clear  day  today,  but  oh,  so  cold!  We  hear 
the  English  rejected  this  baraque  some  time  ago  when  there 
was  talk  of  their  coming  here,  as  not  fit  to  live  in!  It  is  n't, 
really,  not  being  lined.  It  was  a  mistake  —  built  in  hot 
weather.  There  is  a  stove,  which  requires  constant  care 
not  to  smoke  copiously,  and  we  burn  kindling  in  it  —  can't 
get  coal.  The  stove  is  in  the  living-room,  and  as  they 
could  n't  get  enough  piping  to  bring  any  heat  to  the  other 
end,  those  of  us  at  the  back  might  almost  as  well  be  out- 
doors! However,  c'est  la  guerre. 

I  hear  from  Miss  Lowther  from  Arcachon  that  she  is  get- 
ting on  well.  She  was  very  bored  at  going  there,  and  is 
threatening  to  return  much  sooner  than  the  doctors  will 
hear  of.  We  are  anxious  about  her  standing  the  cold 
here. 

A  few  days  ago  a  colonel  told  Miss  Hackett  that  his  men 


FRANCE  i6i 

had  never  got  off  to  the  trenches  in  such  good  condition  as 
after  their  stop  here,  thanks  to  the  canteen  —  was  n't  it 
nice?  The  men  can't  believe  the  coffee  and  note-paper  and 
tobacco  are  free.  They  edge  up,  and  look  —  and  finally 
push  one  man  forward  to  try.  And  when  they  see  it  is  free 
they  surge  forward  —  and  are  so  grateful.  It  is  better  for 
some  armies  to  pay  a  little  —  our  American  Army,  for  in- 
stance, who  can  afford  it.  But  these  poor  poilus  on  five 
sous  a  day  really  appreciate  not  having  to. 

An  avion  Boche  ^  has  just  been  playing  about  overhead. 
Lots  of  guns  today  —  we  hear  that  the  next  village  but 
one,  along  near  us,  had  sixty-two  shells  in  it  in  a  few  hours, 
no  one  hurt  but  a  horse.  The  village  was  already  in  ruins, 
so  there  was  nothing  much  more  to  be  done  in  that 
line! 

I  am  sorry  my  letters  are  so  untidy,  but  there  are  always 
people  talking  all  about  —  and  one  can't  write  in  one's 
cubicle,  it  is  so  fearfully  cold.  It 's  impossible  to  keep  warm 
sitting  anywhere  —  the  only  way  is  by  exercising.  Our 
second  auxiliary  stove  is  out  of  commission  —  as  we  can't 
get  any  kerosene  for  the  moment. 

The  news  has  been  very  depressing  the  last  two  days, 
about  Cambrai,  and  our  plans  are  indirectly  changed.  I 
could  tell  you  a  lot  —  only  I  must  n't.  Better  news 
tonight. 

*  Aeroplane. 


i62  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

[Cugny,  December,  191 7] 
We  have  had  little  sleep  the  last  three  nights.  Boche 
aeroplanes  came  in  the  small  hours  each  night,  and  lingered 
overhead.  Bombs  rained  about  us  until  we  thought  the 
baraque  would  sit  down  on  us  —  it  shook  so.  The  first 
night  four  of  us  dressed  and  went  out  in  boots  and  over- 
coats, in  spite  of  the  terrific  cold  —  to  see  what  we  could 
see.  It  was  a  wonderful  clear,  steely-blue  night,  with  every 
star  out.  The  second  night  —  which  was  still  colder  —  we 
remained  in  bed,  though  they  came  and  went  for  two  hours 

—  and  last  night  I  managed  to  sleep  through  most  of  it, 
as  it  was  n't  quite  so  aggressively  near.  They  have  also 
been  about  in  the  daytime,  off  and  on.  Any  raids  I  was  in 

—  in  London  —  pale  by  comparison  as  regards  nearness 
and  noise. 

We  have  had  a  lot  of  Chasseurs  Alpins  (the  "Blue 
Devils")  in  lately,  quartered  all  about  us,  in  sheds  and 
houses  partly  ruined,  which  our  baraques  are  among.  Our 
walls  are  so  thin  that  the  men's  voices,  calling  to  each 
other  in  the  early  morning,  sound  as  if  they  were  inside  of 
the  baraque!  Our  little  windows  are  made  of  a  sort  of  oiled 
canvas,  not  transparent.  You  can't  see  through  them,  and 
little  light  comes  through.  On  a  sunny  day  it 's  dark  inside, 
and  on  a  dark  day  it's  pitch-black.  It  is  not  uncommon  to 
have  disturbances  of  various  kinds  during  the  night.  Last 
night  a  horse  was  frightened  and  bolted  about  2  a.m. 


o 


FRANCE  163 

Troops  were  starting  for  the  trenches.  He  clattered  along 
the  wooden  edge  of  the  baraque  with  a  noise  far  more 
unnerving  than  any  guns! 

The  cold  has  been  awful.  1  have  n't  been  really  warm 
for  days,  except  when  walking  —  the  minute  one  stops  the 
cold  strikes  in.  You'd  laugh  if  you  knew  the  numbers  of 
layers  of  clothes  I  have  been  wearing!  It  is  only  now  and 
then  we  can  get  any  coal,  and  as  you  know,  twigs  and  chips 
and  tiny  blocks  of  wood  don't  give  great  heat. 

As  I  write,  through  the  walls  there  is  a  steady  roar  of 
poilus'  voices,  plus  a  gramophone.  1  often  play  the  gramo- 
phone, to  relieve  one  of  the  canteeners  —  but  of  course 
the  canteen  is  nothing  to  do  with  us  really  —  we  are  the 
Motor  Section. 

[Cugny,  December,  19 17] 

There  are  constant  air  activities  —  Boches  over- 
head day  and  night,  and  bombs  very  near  —  also  a  steady 
barrage  from  the  guns,  afternoons  and  evenings  as  a  rule. 

The  General  in  command  of  the Armee  came  to  call  on 

Miss  Hackett  the  other  day  and  thanked  her  for  the  work. 
He  asked  if  there  was  anything  he  could  do  for  us  —  and 
she  asked  for  two  stoves.  They  arrived  the  next  morning 
and  we  are  much  warmer.  1  can't  tell  you  what  the  cold  is 
like!  We  have  a  stove  now  at  the  other  end  of  the  baraque, 
near  my  cubicle,  but  fuel  is  the  difficulty.  We  get  coal  and 


i64  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

most  of  our  stores  from  a  military  place  near  by,  where 
only  the  army  may  get  supplies.  The  things  are  good,  but 
certain  ones  are  often  unobtainable.  If  any  one  had  told 
me  that  my  heart  would  beat  with  joy  at  the  sight  of  kero- 
sene and  candles  and  matches,  I  would  certainly  not  have 
believed  it!  You  have  to  experience  being  without  such 
things  to  feel  the  gladdening  which  the  sight  of  them  brings. 
We  are  all  extremely  generous  as  regards  lending  coats, 
boots,  gloves,  or  any  clothes,  but  none  of  us  can  bring  our- 
selves to  give  away  a  box  of  matches ! !  We  are  told  to  be 
ready  to  be  called  out  if  necessary  at  any  moment.  It  is 
not  easy  to  be  "  ready  at  any  moment "  when  our  cars  are 
stabled  in  open  sheds  in  freezing  weather,  and  we  can't, 
of  course,  get  any  anti-freezing  solutions  for  the  radiators. 
Water  left  in  pails  freezes  overnight,  and  the  nearest  pump 
is  a  ten-minute  walk.  I  could  write  a  book  on  the  luxuries 
of  the  front !  Kerosene  for  lamps  is  scarce,  and  candles  are 
thirty-five  centimes  apiece  and  even  more  scarce.  Soon  we 
shall  go  to  bed  in  the  dark,  I  expect.  As  our  baraque  is  full 
up,  the  Auto  Chir  people  have  sent  us  a  tent  for  the  ex- 
pected overflow.  A  tent  sounds  poor  comfort,  but  in  actual 
fact  is  said  to  be  warmer  than  the  baraque  —  much  better 
built,  with  double  walls. 

We  are  supposed  to  have  gas-masks,  but  they  have  n't 
come  yet.  This  afternoon  there  was  a  sound  like  a  gas 
warning  and  it  happened  that  several  of  us  were  wrestling 


FRANCE  165 

with  one  of  the  new  stoves.  The  fumes  were  so  appalling 
that  we  really  couldn't  toll  at  first  whether  it  was  a  gas 
attack  or  not!  it  is  getting  very  exciting  here  now  —  with 
extra  trenches  and  barbed  wire  being  put  up  between  us 
and  the  Boches. 

Since  I  wrote  last  we  have  had  a  lot  of  snow,  and  the 
country  is  looking  too  lovely  —  all  white,  and  every  twig 
and  branch  encased  in  frosting.  You  can  imagine  how 
picturesque  the  shelled  remains  of  houses  are  ^  dark 
against  the  snow  —  and  the  pale  blue  of  the  poilus'  uni- 
forms. One  of  the  very  impressive  things  on  the  way  here 

—  which  1  forgot  to  tell  you  of  —  is  a  big  cemetery  of 
German  dead,  in  the  forest  this  side  of  Compicgne  —  a 
high  paling  all  around  it.  Back  there,  one  sees  German 
prisoners  working  on  the  roads,  though  not,  of  course,  any- 
where so  far  front  as  we  are  here.  They  all  have  "  P.G."'  in 
huge  red  letters  on  their  blouses. 

Mrs.  Talbot  went  to  London  to  stir  up  more  funds, 
which  we  need  badly.  She  is  one  of  the  canteen  members 

—  such  a  dear  —  our  mess  president,  and  does  us  awfully 
well.  Another  charming  canteen  worker  is  Mme.  Fillon- 
neau,  who  is  Scotch,  married  to  a  (half  English)  French 
colonel. 

1  Prisonnier  de  Guerre.    {Editor's  Note.) 


i66  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

[Cugny,  January,  1918] 
Miss  Lowther  wrote,  offering  me  leave  —  in  order 
to  go  to  Paris  and  meet  her.  The  big  lung  specialist  found 
to  his  great  surprise  that  she  is  cured,  and  told  her  she  may 
drive  this  winter,  —  although  she  should  have  stayed 
three  months  at  Arcachon. 

One  of  our  drivers.  Miss  P ,  had  a  thrilling  experience 

the  other  day,  while  I  was  in  Paris.  I  wish  I  had  been  with 
her!  She  went  for  a  walk  in  a  snowstorm,  and  a  Boche  aero- 
plane which  had  lost  its  way  came  directly  over  her,  flying 
so  low  that  she  could  see  the  airman's  face  and  arms.  The 
anti-aircraft  guns  were  giving  him  a  hot  time.  She  and  a 
passing  poilu  got  into  a  ditch  for  shelter  from  the  shrapnel 
—  but  the  Boche  saw  them,  and  turned  his  mitrailleuse 
on  them!  When  the  machine  had  passed  on  and  it  was 
over,  the  poilu  ran  up  to  her,  and  grasped  her  hand  to  say 
how  lucky  they  were  both  to  be  alive  —  then  suddenly 
dropped  her  hand,  exclaiming,  "Mais  vous  etes  femme!" 
In  her  greatcoat  and  cap  and  boots  he  had  thought  she  was 
a  man.  It  happened  just  near  here,  close  by  the  sign-post, 
"Zone  dangereuse"  —  on  the  road  to  the  village  where  we 
lunched  with  the  French  officers  in  the  house  with  no  roof. 
That  house  has  been  bombed  again  several  times  since 
we  lunched  there  —  and  there  is  less  than  ever  of  it.  We 
get  all  our  ravitaillements  from  that  village. 

A  certain  number  of  English  troops  are  just  arriving. 


/ 


FRANCE  167 

taking  over  part  of  the  line  —  there  is  no  harm  in  saying 
it,  for  it  will  be  ancient  history  by  the  time  it  reaches  you. 
The  English  never  allow  women  so  near  the  fnmt  as  this, 
and  are  surprised  to  fmd  us  here.  The  conditions  are  much 
changed,  khaki  everywhere  and  very  little  blue  left.  It  is 
interesting  to  see  the  mixture  in  the  Canteen.  We  have 
had  various  English  officers  dropping  in  on  us  at  all  hours, 
and  we  like  to  give  them  tea  or  coffee,  etc.,  but  it  is  not 
easy  when  we  are  on  none  too  full  rations  ourselves. 

How  amused  you  will  be  when  1  tell  you  that  we  can  no 
longer  call  ourselves  voluntary  —  we  are  to  be  obliged  to 
take  the  pay  of  the  French  poilu.  Imagine  my  pride  in 
earning  five  sous  a  day  as  a  French  soldier!  ^'ou  will  be 
glad  to  know  that  we  may  not  be  sent  at  first  so  near  the 
front  as  we  were  told.  It  just  depends  on  where  we  are 
most  needed. 

If  you  ask  why  we  've  been  so  long  in  starting,  the  answer 
is  RED  TAPE! !  All  things  of  this  kind  go  through  more  or 
less  of  it,  and  this  is  a  much  bigger  thing  than  was  expected 
—  a  whole  section  instead  of  a  quarter. 

We  shall  not  know  where  we  are  going  even  when  we 
start.  Things  are  going  to  be  doing  everywhere  very  soon  — 
all  the  few  remaining  civilians  have  been  ordered  to  leave 
Cugny  and  the  little  surrounding  villages.  The  Boches  are 
trying  their  hardest  before  our  army  gets  over.  I  can't 
write  more  about  it  —  and  nothing  else  is  of  any  interest! 


i68  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

yUlers-Cotterets  (Aisne), 
Friday,  January  25,  1918 

We  got  our  marching  orders  by  telephone  at  Cugny 
on  Tuesday,  and  came  through  on  Wednesday  —  eight  of 
us,  lunching  at  Noyon  on  the  way.  The  demenagement  of 
the  baraque  was  no  hght  affair.  I  took  a  photograph  of  the 
cars  Hned  up  outside,  full  to  bursting,  and  the  ground  lit- 
tered with  stoves,  tables,  chairs,  packing-cases,  etc. 

I  regret  to  say  that  my  poor  G.M.C.  became  "en  panne  " 
outside  Soissons  —  otherwise  we  should  have  come  through 
all  right.  The  whole  trouble  has  turned  out  to  be  simply 
water  in  the  essence,  but  I  was  worried.  It  was  growing  later 
and  later  —  two  officers  in  a  car,  after  working  over  her 
too,  sent  us  men  from  a  Pare  (a  military  depot  for  auto- 
mobiles), but  she  would  not  go,  and  finally  we  left  her  with 
the  men  to  be  towed  to  their  place.  I  came  along  with 
Miss  Repton  and  Mrs.  Talbot  in  the  Wolseley,  Miss  R. 
having  sent  the  others  on  hours  before.  The  going  was  very 
heavy  after  much  rain,  but  luckily  it  was  a  moonlight  night. 
We  came  through  miles  of  weird,  desolate  country,  once  the 
front,  and  several  deserted,  ruined  villages,  without  a  light 
or  a  sign  of  life.  Then  through  the  glorious  forest  of  Villers- 
Cotterets,  arriving  here  soon  after  midnight.  It  is  a  quaint 
little  town,  rather  like  Tours,  only  quainter.  We  had  no 
idea  where  the  others  would  be,  whether  in  billets  or  a 
hotel.  A  soldier  in  the  Place  told  us  there  was  no  hotel 


FRANCE  169 

open,  so  I  left  the  others  in  the  car,  and  started  out  on  foot 
to  find  the  "  Direction  des  Automobiles"  —  which  is  where 
we  report  when  we  arrive  anywhere.  It  was  like  walking 
through  a  city  of  the  dead,  not  a  light  nor  a  sound  any- 
where. 1  kept  thinking  1  heard  steps  in  the  distance,  some 
one  coming  whom  1  could  ask,  but  realized  it  was  the  echo 
of  my  own  boots  on  the  pavement!  It  was  then  i  a.m.  1 
found  the  hotel,  and  went  back  for  the  others  —  the  woman 
gave  us  some  ham  and  bread  and  vin  du  pays,  and  we  fell 
into  bed.  The  hotel  was  so  full  I  had  to  sleep  in  a  bathroom 
—  and  oh,  the  irony  of  having  had  no  proper  bath  for  weeks 
and  sleeping  alongside  of  a  beautiful  enamel  bathtub  piled 
with  chairs! 

The  next  morning  I,  being  a  soldier  in  the  service  of  the 
French  Army,  was  ordered  to  be  ready  at  12.30  to  go  with 
the  marechal  des  logis  (more  or  less  the  equivalent  of  a 
sergeant-major  in  the  British  Army)  to  see  about  m}-  car. 
We  went  off  in  a  little  service  car  and  1  drove  mine  back 
with  a  huge  fifty-litre  bidon  in  beside  me  —  feeding  the 
carburetor  by  a  long  rubber  tube.  They  had  found  five 
litres  of  water  in  my  tank!  It  meant  a  horrid  lot  of  work, 
for  the  tank  had  to  be  demonte,  to  be  properly  cleaned. 
This  morning  one  of  our  other  cars  is  en  panne  from  the 
same  essence! 

Coming  here  turns  out  to  have  been  a  mistake  —  the 
coup  de  telephone  which  brought  us  here  should  have  sent 


I70  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

us  to  Creil  to  join  Miss  Lowther  and  the  other  dozen  driv- 
ers. So  back  we  go  today.  But  I  can't  help  being  glad  the 
mistake  was  made,  for  we  have  seen  some  wonderfully 
interesting  country.  We  came  for  miles  through  the  land 
over  which  the  battle  of  the  Aisne  was  fought  —  rolling, 
desolate  ground,  with  trenches  and  dug-outs  —  the  barbed- 
wire  entanglements  still  there,  and  graves  scattered  about. 
In  one  place  the  road  passes  along  what  was  No  Man's 
Land  —  it  was  indescribable.  I  found  there  a  hand  gren- 
ade, half  hidden  in  the  ground  —  and  have  kept  it.  It  is 
probably  not  exploded,  but  I  have  tied  it  up  in  a  cushion, 
in  my  tool  box,  and  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  get  it  demonte 
by  some  artilleryman.  I  should  like  to  keep  it,  having 
found  it  myself  just  there.  I  am  told  it  is  German,  of  the 
19 1 4  model. 

I  have  the  percussion  fuse  of  a  French  75  —  which  we 
found  on  an  old  dump  heap  among  a  lot  of  empty  shells. 
But  I'm  afraid  it  is  still  explosive,  and  that  I  shan't  be 
able  to  keep  it. 

Hackeit-Lowther  Unit  (Motor  Section) 

Hopital  d' Evacuation,  No.  16, 

Creil,  January  29,  19 18 

Here  we  are,  the  Hackett-Lowther  Unit  complete 
and  at  work  at  last!  We  got  here  in  the  morning,  and  after 
working  all  the  afternoon  on  our  cars,  we  all  went  on  duty 


FRANCE  171 

the  same  night.  From  10  p.m.  until  6.30  the  next  morning 
we  carried  wounded  to  ditlerent  hospitals  —  then  after 
three  hours'  sleep  we  were  called  out  again  for  another  rush 
until  4.30  that  afternoon! 

The  night  work  was  especially  trying,  as  there  was  a 
thick  mist  everywhere,  and  one  could  only  see  a  few  feet 
in  front  of  one's  car,  going  over  strange  country  roads.  1 
was  driving  a  strange  car,  too,  through  the  night  —  a  Wol- 
seley.  My  beat  was  back  and  forth  from  the  H.O.E.  to 
a  hospital  thirteen  kilometres  from  here,  through  winding 
country  roads  and  little  villages,  just  stopping  to  load  up 
and  unload  at  the  other  end.  They  showed  us  the  way  once, 
and  after  that  we  had  to  fmd  it  for  ourselves,  fog  or  no  fog! 

It  is  much  colder  today  —  and  clear  and  sunny.  My 
car  is  running  beautifully,  and  pulls  up  steep  hills,  with  a 
heavy  load,  too  splendidly.  1  am  very  thankful,  for  no  one 
has  ever  touched  her  but  myself,  and  it  is  a  big  responsi- 
bility, the  entire  care  of  a  car,  when  one  has  never  had  it  be- 
fore. Miss  Lowther  asked  if  1  would  like  to  drive  the  W  ol- 
seley,  but  1  am  fond  of  my  G.M.C.  and  prefer  to  keep  her 
if  I  have  the  choice.  1  like. the  way  she  is  built.  \\'olsele>s 
and  many  of  the  others  are  touring-cars  with  ambulance 
bodies  put  on  —  they  have  glass  wind-shields,  but  are  ter- 
ribly cold  at  the  side.  The  G.M.C.  is  a  real  truck  build, 
big  and  heavy,  much  used  in  the  French  Army.  There  is  a 
canvas  which  shelters  the  front  seat  and  closes  in  the  sides. 


172  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

I  am  writing  on  my  lap  in  my  car  —  waiting  at  the 
H.O.E.  to  take  wounded  to  a  hospital  twelve  kilometres 
from  here.  We  are  very  badly  lodged  now,  in  a  horrible  lit- 
tle hotel  —  and  can  get  no  food  after  being  up  all  night. 
But  in  two  or  three  days  we  are  to  be  billeted  in  a  chateau 
in  the  country  near  by,  where  some  soldiers  are  to  be 
moved  out  to  make  room  for  us.  There  we  shall  be  able  to 
work  on  our  cars  peacefully  in  the  park,  without  crowds 
of  soldiers  standing  around  and  watching  us,  as  they  do  in 
the  courtyard  of  the  hotel.  We  have  a  lieutenant  whose  job 
it  is  to  transmit  the  army  orders  to  Miss  Lowther  and  a 
marechal  des  logis,  brigadier,  an  orderly,  a  cook,  and  two 
mechanics.  We  are  the  only  women  in  France  who  have  a 
commissioned  officer  at  their  head  —  all  the  others  get 
their  orders  from  a  mere  marechal  des  logis!  I  wish  you 
could  see  the  Unit  at  meals!  We  eat  at  the  soldiers'  mess 
—  in  a  tiny  little  room  by  ourselves.  A  long  table  with 
wooden  benches  and  horrible  tin  plates,  forks,  spoons, 
and  mugs.  The  food  is  eatable  —  that  is  all  I  can  say  — 
but  we  get  enough. 

Creil,  Eebruary  4,  1918 

It  is  no  light  matter  when  the  Hackett-Lowther  Unit 
moves !  We  are  evidently  to  be  here  for  a  few  weeks  any- 
how, and  yesterday  we  moved,  bag  and  baggage,  to  the 
chateau  where  we  are  billeted,  about  two  kilometres  away. 


FRAKCE  173 

It  is  a  typical  French  house,  large  and  square,  standing 
among  poplars  —  with  a  park  behind,  a  lake,  etc.  Half  of 
it  is  closed  but  we  can  all  get  in  by  squeezing,  four  going 
in  the  billiard-room.  1  am  to  have  a  small  dressing-room, 
connected  with  a  big  room  where  two  of  my  friends  sleep. 
It  is  perfect  being  in  the  country  —  working  on  our  cars 
under  the  trees  instead  of  in  a  paved  courtyard  crowded 
with  soldiers.  I  spent  today  in  breeches  and  overalls  — 
under  and  inside  my  car.  The  army  gives  us  our  cook, 
our  rations,  and  plates,  forks,  spoons,  etc.  As  the  break- 
fast consists  of  black  coffee  and  dry  bread  —  milk  being 
very  scarce  now  —  you  can  imagine  that  we  try  to  supple- 
ment it  a  little  when  possible!  Saturday  1  had  my  turn 
being  on  night  duty  —  which  means  staying  at  the  H.O.E. 
all  night  with  one's  car,  from  9  p.m.  until  8  a.m.  There 
must  be  some  one  there,  attached  to  the  hospital,  but  it  is 
seldom  one  is  called  for  unless  there  is  a  rush  —  and  then 
all  the  cars  are  called  out.  They  have  given  us  the  use  of 
a  little  room,  in  a  hut  behind  the  station,  and  we  have  a 
camp-bed  by  the  stove,  and  roll  up  in  a  rug.  My  night  on 
duty  was  bitterly  cold,  and  the  fire  smoked,  and  went  out, 
and  my  rug  was  damp  and  chilled  me  more  than  it  warmed ! 
1  walked  up  and  down  outdoors  to  keep  warm,  and  fmally 
slept  a  little  between  6  and  7. 

We  had  an  air  raid  the  other  night  —  the  Boches  on 
their  way  to  Paris,  and  back  —  and  great  was  the  din! 


174  J^  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Creil,  February  6,  1918 
A  rush  was  on  again  today  —  every  car  called  out 
—  and  1  am  now  on  duty.  The  hours  are  rather  long  some- 
times; the  2.30  to  6.30  shift  was  prolonged  both  yesterday 
and  today  and  I  was  on  from  11.30  to  7.  However,  the 
busier  we  are  the  better  we  like  it.  I  have  just  been  into  the 
station-yard  —  to  the  Scottish  Women's  Canteen  —  to 
get  a  cup  of  tea ;  it 's  very  nice  to  be  a  poilu  and  able  to  use 
the  canteen!  It  is  free,  and  we  are  not  allowed  to  pay  — 
the  tea  is  n't  bad. 

It  amuses  me  to  see  the  Bureau  which  has  been  installed 
in  a  part  of  the  stables,  by  our  lieutenant  and  his  staff — a 
brigadier,  marechal  des  logis,  etc.  It  apparently  takes  about 
four  men  to  run  us!  —  although  Miss  Lowther  does  all  the 
organizing  of  our  hours  and  the  supervising  of  the  cars. 
We  have  to  enter  in  a  book  at  night  what  runs  we  have 
made  —  how  many  kilometres,  how  many  wounded,  and 
details  of  essence,  tires,  etc. 

Tomorrow  is  to  be  another  rush  day  —  the  orders  have 
just  come  —  so  we  shall  all  be  out  early. 

Creil,  February  10,  19 18 

We  are  terribly  busy.  Yesterday  most  of  us  were 
up  at  5.30  for  a  very  heavy  morning's  work  —  long  dis- 
tances to  go,  and  many  to  carry,  and  it  all  had  to  be  finished 
by  noon,  twelve  exactly.  I  can  carry  five  couches  (stretcher 


FRANCE  175 

cases)  in  my  car,  which  makes  her  extra  useful.  Even  big 
cars  as  a  rule  carry  only  four,  and  Fords  two.  1  can  take 
either  nine  assis  (sitting  cases) — eight  inside  and  one  in 
front  with  me — or  five  couches  —  or  various  other  com- 
binations of  both.  We  often  have  bad  cases. 

H.O.E.No.  \6,Creil, 
February  22,  1918 

The  days  fly  by  —  we  are  busy,  on  the  whole,  with 
occasional  very  slack  days  and  then  sudden  rushes.  It  has 
been  bitterly  cold  again,  and  you  can  imagine  the  joys  of 
coming  down  in  the  dark,  at  5.30  a.m.  on  a  rush  day,  your 
car  rigid  with  the  cold,  and  everything  like  ice  to  touch  — 
no  hot  water  to  help  start  the  engine,  and  not  even  a  drop 
of  coffee  inside  you!  However,  once  the  car  has  been  "mis 
en  marche,"  and  one  has  snatched  a  hasty  cup  of  coffee  and 
slice  of  bread  in  the  kitchen,  life  looks  more  cheerful,  and  it 
is  gloriously  exhilarating  to  see  the  sun  rise  over  fields  of 
white  frost  as  one  flies  along.  There  is  no  speed  limit  for 
ambulances  in  France,  as  there  is  in  England.  They  often 
give  us  an  enormous  number  of  wounded  to  be  collected 
from  long  distances,  to  be  at  the  H.O.E.  at  a  certain  hour, 
for  a  certain  train,  and  it  means  a  rush.  1 1  's  no  use  starting 
too  early,  as  they  won't  be  ready,  and  only  keep  one  wait- 
ing, so  we  have  to  make  quick  time  and  go  very  fast  when 
empty. 


176  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Did  I  tell  you  that  I  drove  the  other  day  up  to  Compiegne 
to  take  six  insane  cases  and  two  attendants?  Coming  back 
I  had  my  first  real  "panne"  —  on  the  road  twelve  kilo- 
metres from  home.  The  G.M.C,  was  going  like  a  bird 
when  suddenly  she  stopped  —  three  times  that  happened 
—  and  then  she  would  n't  go  at  all.  It  was  dark  and  some 
one  had  borrowed  my  electric  torch  and  not  returned  it  — 
but  1  managed  to  discover  the  trouble.  A  screw  composing 
a  very  essential  part  of  the  carburetor,  on  which  the  needle 
and  float  pivot,  had  fallen  out !  —  a  thing  1  never  heard  of 
happening  to  any  one.  I  was  in  despair  as  it  was  so  dark 
and  late,  but  found  a  nail  which  would  go  in,  and  bound  it 
on,  wrapped  in  a  sort  of  hood  of  chamois,  wired  on  —  and 
we  came  home  all  right.  The  carburetor  looked  as  if  it  was 
bandaged  up  with  a  toothache! 

Soon  after  1  left  there,  a  bomb  came  and  ***** 
***************  CPensor') 

Miss  Hackett  was  there  with  two  of  the  canteeners 
and  one  of  them  was  thrown  on  her  face,  though  not 
hurt. 

This  place  stands  in  a  hollow,  and  is  most  unhealthy. 
We  have  all  of  us  been  upset,  with  what  is  called  "camp- 
itis"  by  those  who  had  it  on  the  Russian  front.  It  is  a  mild 
form  of  dysentery  —  one  girl  has  had  it  ten  days.  I  got 
it,  together  with  a  sore  throat,  on  a  5.30  rush-morning  — 
imagine  having  to  drive  steadily  in  the  cold  until  noon. 


FRANCE  177 

But  I  stayed  off  the  next  day  and  when  we  had  a  rush  call 
at  10  P.M.,  for  all  night,  1  was  n't  allowed  to  go. 

Miss  Hackett  and  the  two  Hancocks  are  coming  here 
tomorrow  for  the  night,  and  we  are  to  give  a  fancy-dress 
party  —  no  guests  to  spend  more  than  two  francs  on  their 
costumes!  We  have  permission  to  rifle  the  chateau  of  cur- 
tain draperies,  for  two  francs  would  hardl>'  buy  a  postage- 
stamp  these  days. 

Creil,  March  8,  1918 

We  have  just  heard  that  Cugny  has  been  bombed, 
and  our  baraque  is  no  more!  Also  our  garage  shed,  which 
was  already  half  ruined  when  we  were  there.  It  is  rather 
sad,  for  I  loved  the  place,  and  we  had  many  good  times  in 
that  baraque. 

1  need  n't  refrain  any  longer  from  telling  you  that  when 
I  first  went  to  Cugny,  owing  to  the  large  number  of  men 
who  were  then  being  sent  south  to  fight  in  the  land  of 
olives,  there  was  just  one  man  in  the  trenches  to  every 
eighteen  there  should  have  been,  between  us  and  the 
Boches!  And  if  they  had  known  — !  It's  just  another  of 
those  wonderful  cases  where  in  spite  of  all  their  spies  they 
don't  know  until  too  late. 

I  have  gotten  very  hardened  to  the  cold  —  even  more 
than  when  in  England.    In  our  chateau  we  have  only  a 


178  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

moderate  log  fire  in  the  dining-room  on  very  cold  days  — 
and  the  rest  of  the  house  is  exactly  like  outdoors,  only  even 
damper.  There  are  broken  panes  of  glass  in  the  windows 
—  so  we  could  n't  keep  in  any  heat  if  we  had  it  to  keep! 
We  are  allowed  so  little  kerosene  now  that  the  "flamme 
bleue"  stoves,  which  saved  our  lives  at  Cugny,  are  out  of 
the  question.  Many  feel  the  cold  very  much,  owing  to  the 
damp.  I  must  acknowledge  I  am  rather  stiff  when  I  wake 
up  in  the  morning,  but  I  think  that's  the  hard  camp-bed. 
I  was  on  night  duty  again  last  night.  The  great  diversion 
of  the  Hackett-Lowther  Unit,  when  we  have  time,  is  to  go 
into  the  town  and  have  a  hot  bath  at  the  Bains  on  the  river 
Oise.  It  is  a  sort  of  wooden  float  on  a  sluggish  yellow  stream, 
but  the  rooms  are  clean,  and  one  gets  a  "fond  de  bain"  (a 
large  sheet  to  line  the  tin  bathtub),  clean  towels,  etc. 

You  ask  if  we  salute,  and  it 's  hard  to  answer,  for  we  do 
and  we  don't !  What  I  mean  is,  we  don't  make  a  fuss  of  it, 
as  the  W.V.R.  in  London  do.  We  are  not  in  the  way  of  it, 
for  when  out  here  we  are  mostly  working  about  with  no 
caps,  and  you  may  not  salute  without  headgear,  but  stand 
at  attention  instead.  Miss  Lowther  has  n't  made  a  point  of 
it,  as  she  does  n't  want  it  said,  "  How  absurd  it  is,  women 
playing  at  being  men ! "  But,  of  course,  we  ought  in  theory, 
belonging  as  we  do  to  the  army.  When  Miss  Lowther 
is  saluted  by  officers  or  men,  she  returns  it,  just  touching 
her  cap. 


< 
z 

H 


FRANCE  179 

Our  lieutenant  has  been  all  through  Verdun  and  many 
times  wounded,  and  has  the  Croix  de  Guerre  and  other 
decorations.  The  whole  inside  of  his  mouth  is  silver,  though 
you  would  never  know  it.  He  and  xMiss  Lowther  are  equal 
in  rank,  and  ho  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  run- 
ning of  the  motor  work.  All  the  clerical  part  and  accounts 
are  his  department.  Our  brigadier  does  nothing  but  sec- 
retarial work  for  him  from  morning  to  night. 

It  is  becoming  impossible  to  get  cigarettes.  There  are 
none  in  Paris,  but  the  nearer  the  front,  the  more  likely  there 
are  to  be  some.  We  are  entitled,  as  poilus,  to  a  tobacco 
allowance,  but  we  have  never  "  touche"  it,  as  is  the  French 
expression  for  drawing  what  the  army  gives.  And  just  as 
we  thought  we  would  ask  for  it  to  give  to  the  hospitals, 
the  allowance  has  been  withdrawn  from  the  entire  army! 
It's  hard  for  the  poor  men  —  they've  got  to  buy  it  now. 
It  is  amusing  to  be  a  poilu,  but  it's  a  bore  too  —  for  we 
can't  move  without  such  red  tape.  We  are  in  the  Zone 
des  Armees,  and  the  rules  are  very  strict.  The  Germans 
were  in  this  town  for  six  days  last  year,  and  there  are 
quite  a  few  ruins  about. 

H.O.E.  No.  i6,Crcil, 

March  lo,  1918 

I  took  two  American  soldiers  to  one  of  the  French 
hospitals  the  other  day.  They  both  looked  very  ill,  and  1  felt 


i8o  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

sorry  for  them,  not  being  among  their  own  people.  A  day 
or  two  later  one  of  them  ran  after  me  in  the  street,  and 
said  he  was  better  —  I  was  so  glad  to  hear  it  —  and  that 
the  hospital  was  "fine."  He  was  a  nice  boy,  and  awfully 
afraid  he  would  be  sent  home  without  ever  being  under  fire 
or  in  an  air  raid.  That  last  wish  at  least  has  been  amply 
gratified!  There  was  a  tremendous  raid  here  two  nights 
ago.  We  were  just  going  to  bed,  and  watched  it  for  half  an 
hour.  The  searchlights  were  pretty,  but  shrapnel  began  to 
patter  around  the  house  like  hail  and  an  obus  whizzed 
down,  though  without  exploding,  so  near  that  we  thought 
better  of  staying  out  on  the  steps! 

If  I  could  be  spared  from  here,  I  should  feel  I  ought  to 
return  to  London,  for  Dr.  Murray  writes  that  two  of  our 
junior  staff  are  absent  from  the  Clinic  now  for  urgent  fam- 
ily reasons.  I  ought  to  be  there,  but  there  is  no  prospect 
of  my  being  exchanged  under  my  six  months.  We  are  short 
of  drivers  and  Miss  Lowther  can't  replace  any  one  easily, 
as  it 's  almost  impossible  now  for  English  women  to  leave 
England.  They  are  all  needed  at  home.  Some  weeks  ago 
1  had  a  depressed  and  very  discouraged  letter  from  one  of 
my  Clinic  patients  —  sick  of  life,  and  upset  over  certain 
worries,  and  thinking  he  might  as  well  give  up  his  treat- 
ment. I  have  just  heard  from  him  again  that  the  worries 
have  cleared  up,  thanks  to  his  improved  condition,  and 
he  is  greatly  cheered  and  earning  very  good  money. 


FRANCE  .  i8i 

Creil,  March  17,  1918 
I  am  in  a  hard  position,  for  Miss  Lowther  urges 
me  to  stay  —  from  the  point  of  view  that  we  are  doing 
such  real  war  work,  and  that  my  Chnic  work  can  wait  for 
the  future  and  will  go  on  after  the  war.  It  is  trying  for  me, 
and  1  'm  torn  in  two!  Of  course  1  must  go  back  —  /  belong 
there,  and  fewer  people  can  do  that  work  than  can  drive 
cars  —  there's  no  question  in  my  mind.   But  I  can't  leave 

Miss  Lowther  too  short-handed.   We  are  told  by  X 

himself,  one  of  the  big  pots  who  arrive  occasionally  in  a 
staff  car  to  see  us,  that  we  shall  be  sent  to  the  front  as  soon 
as  there  is  an  offensive,  and  that  until  then  there  is  more 
work  for  us  here  than  there.  We  are  certainly  doing  very 
useful  work  here. 

1  was  sent  to  Paris  this  week  with  Miss  Repton,  who 
went  to  bring  back  the  new  six-cylinder  Delaunay-Belle- 
ville  which  was  given  us.  in  case  of  puncture  or  anything 
it  is  better  to  have  two  on  a  new  car.  We  were  in  Paris  at 
the  time  of  the  big  factory  explosion,  and  never  heard  it! 
We  were  in  the  concrete-floored  garage  testing  the  De- 
launay  engine,  which  was  making  an  unholy  noise,  so  we 
did  not  know  of  it  until  a  man  told  us  —  and  then  we 
joined  the  crowd  in  the  street  and  watched  the  huge  cloud 
of  smoke  slowly  spreading. 

Paris  is  really  warlike  at  last  as  to  food  rations  —  no 
butter  at  all  and  very  little  milk,  no  food  sold  between  2 


i82  r.IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

and  6  p.m.,  and  no  sugar.  They  serve  liquid  saccharine  in 
little  carafes  —  which  does  very  well  for  coffee  but  is  hor- 
rid in  tea.  All  the  tea-places  are  practically  deserted,  as 
no  one  cares  for  tea  comme  fa!  We  saw  signs  of  the  last 
raid,  but  I  suppose  I  must  not  say  where. 

I  am  to  be  second  driver  with  Miss  Repton  on  the 
Delaunay  for  a  fortnight,  as  I  am  one  of  the  few  who  can 
swing  her  at  present.  Her  engine  has  been  done  over,  and 
is  terribly  stiff,  but  improving  every  day. 

I  sent  you  a  fat  letter  from  Paris  on  the  13th,  enclosing 
a  snapshot  taken  at  Cugny,  but  I  posted  it  in  the  British 
Military  P.O.,  forgetting  that  they  are  stricter  about 
photographs  than  the  French.  Your  box  has  still  not 
arrived,  but  I  heard  a  rumor  of  it  through  some  one  who 
has  been  in  Paris,  so  it  will  turn  up  some  day. 

Creil,  March  20,  19 18 

It  is  hard  to  realize  we  have  been  here  eight  weeks, 
doing  good  and  much-needed  work,  but  monotonous !  We 
have  reason  to  know  we  are  off  to  the  front  now  very  soon 
—  and  are  feeling  in  consequence  delightfully  unsettled. 

Our  lieutenant,  M.  Chatenay,  has  received  numerous 
compliments  from  the  big  officials  at  Creil  on  our  work, 
which  they  say  is  "  tres-chic."  I  must  say  the  Unit  deserves 
it  —  we  are  regularity  itself  in  the  day  and  night  service, 
and  our  cars  never  fail.    In  any  emergency  we  are  on  the 


AT  WORK 


FRANCE  183 

spot  at  once,  and  when  a  certain  number  of  cars  are 
ordered  suddenly,  to  evacuate  some  hospital,  we  are  tiiere 
waiting  long  before  the  patients  are  ready. 

Creil,  March  24,  19 18 

The  offensive  has  begun.  The  news  from  the  front  is 
not,  of  course,  unexpected,  but  that  makes  it  no  less  dis- 
tressing. I  suppose  you  have  realized  that  all  the  part 
where  we  were  last  winter  is  now  in  German  hands  again. 
I  am  fearfully  depressed  this  afternoon  about  it  all.  ^'ou 
can  imagine  how  cut  to  the  heart  1  feel  at  the  Huns 
occupying  that  country  1  know  so  well. 

We  had  our  first  air-raid  work  last  night.  I  was  the 
night-driver  on  duty.  The  guns  were  just  starting  as 
I  left  here  at  9,  and  1  could  hear  the  Boche  engines  directly 
overhead  —  it  was  a  glorious  clear  moonlight  night.  Some 
bombs  fell  very  near  just  as  1  got  to  the  H.O.E  and  the 
noise  was  deafening.  1  had  just  stopped  my  engine,  pre- 
paratory to  beating  it  for  cover,  when  shrapnel  whizzed 
past  my  head  and  there  was  a  tremendous  crash  close 
beside.  It  had  broken  the  heavy  ground-glass  arch  of  one 
of  the  H.O.E.  windows  and  the  pavement  was  covered 
with  broken  pieces.  Then  an  ambulance  call  came,  and 
I  tore  off,  taking  one  of  the  doctors  along.  There  were 
soldiers  wounded  and  killed.  They  filled  my  car  with  the 
worst  cases,  and  meanwhile  were  sending  to  the  chilteau 


i84  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

for  more  ambulances.  By  the  time  I  had  taken  my  first 
load  to  the  hospital  and  got  back,  every  one  of  our  cars 
was  there  —  I  could  n't  believe  my  eyes,  it  was  so  quick! 
A  good  many  of  the  drivers  had  gone  to  bed  and  the  cars' 
radiators  had  to  be  filled  —  and  they  were  on  the  road 
about  eight  minutes  after  the  order  came!  We  took  all  the 
wounded  and  the  dead  —  and  then  the  others  went  home, 
leaving  me  and  one  other  car  on  duty.  Shortly  after,  more 
bombs  fell  and  I  got  the  new  wounded,  luckily  only  three 
cases  —  it  was  then  about  i  a.m.  A  doctor  went  with  me, 
and  we  had  to  drive  about  from  house  to  house  and  street 
to  street  before  we  could  find  where  the  wounded  were. 
We  knew  what  the  Huns  were  trying  for,  and  that  another 
bomb  might  land  on  us  any  minute.  People  were  huddled 
in  their  doorways,  and  we  kept  calling  out,  "Oil  sont  les 
blesses?"  And  they  would  direct  us,  often  without  know- 
ing themselves.  1  did  n't  sleep  at  all,  all  night,  knowing 
more  calls  might  come  in  —  walked  about,  and  sat  in  my 
car.  I  can  tell  you  the  things  1  saw  last  night  made  me  feel 
murderous  —  such  suffering  all  for  nothing.  One  of  the 
men  had  lost  both  eyes.  Another  was  terribly  injured  in 
the  chest  —  they  said  he  was  dying,  and  when  they  took 
him  out  I  think  he  was  dead.  The  hospital  people  were 
splendid  —  very  quick  and  gentle  with  them.  I  shall  not 
soon  forget  the  scene  there  —  the  moonlight  pouring 
down  on  the  courtyard  of  the  hospital  —  a  slow  procession 


FRANCE  1P5 

of  our  cars  creeping  in,  looking  gray  and  ghostly  in  the 
moonlight  —  and  in  one  corner  a  flood  of  light  from  the 
operating-room,  where  the  doctors  were  already  hard  at 
work. 

I  have  saved  you  a  bit  of  the  glass  which  nearly  ended 
the  life  of  your  youngest! 

Creil,  Monday,  March  25,  19 18 

This  afternoon  there  was  the  funeral  of  the  soldiers 
killed  in  the  air  raid,  and  mine  was  one  of  the  four  cars 
to  carry  the  coffins.  Being  militar}-,  it  was  our  job  to  do  it, 
but  I  don't  suppose  it  has  ever  been  done  by  women  before. 
We  took  them  from  the  hospital  to  the  church,  waited 
there  —  and  then  on  to  the  cemetery.  It  was  very  simple 
and  impressive.  A  crowd  of  people,  of  course,  and  soldiers 
lined  up  presenting  arms  both  at  the  hospital  and  church. 
We  stood  at  attention  by  our  cars  as  the  bodies  were  carried 
in  and  out.  We  made  two  trips  each,  as  there  were  fifteen 

dead. 

Good  news  to-night  —  the  line  has  been  pushed  back, 
and  the  German  losses  are  tremendous.  I  wish  1  could  tell 
you  more  details  of  the  conditions  here  at  the  H.O.E. 
but  dare  not.  Today  from  our  park  gates  we  saw  long 
trains  passing  —  full  of  refugees,  even  the  roofs  covered 
with  them. 


i86  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Creil,  Saturday,  March  30,  19 18 

The  last  week  has  been  a  nightmare  of  anxiety  — 
we  hardly  dared  to  hope  the  line  would  be  held,  but,  thank 
Heaven,  it  has  been. 

I  can't  write  much  about  conditions  here,  but  it  might 
just  as  well  be  the  first  months  of  the  war  instead  of  now. 
It  has  been  heartrending  —  no  words  can  describe  what 
the  H.O.E.  has  been  like  —  the  wounded  lying  all  over  the 
floor  in  such  quantities  that  no  one  knew  where  to  begin. 
We  are  working  at  high  pressure,  and  1  don't  think  we  shall 
be  sent  forward  at  present  —  as  we  are  so  much  needed 
here.  We  have  had  four  cars  steadily  on  duty,  and  the  rest 
have  been  out  most  of  the  time  on  special  work.  Three 
army  ambulances  with  men  drivers  have  just  been 
attached  to  us. 

I  can  only  write  a  few  words  today,  as  I  am  trying 
to  get  a  little  sleep.  Last  night  I  was  just  going  to  bed 
when  my  car  was  called  out,  at  9.30  p.m.,  and  I  went  off 
on  a  long  trip,  getting  back  about  4  this  morning.  I  had 
some  coffee  and  a  short  nap  on  my  bed,  and  started  off 
again  on  a  two-hours  run.  The  night  before  I  had  just 
got  to  bed  when  I  was  called  out,  and  flung  on  some 
clothes  over  my  pyjamas,  getting  home  about  i.  Miss 
Lowther  tries  not  to  give  us  many  broken  nights  in  succes- 
sion, but  often  she  can't  avoid  it.    It  is  more  than  likely 


z 


FRANCE  187 

I  '11  have  to  go  again  toni^^ht  —  so  I  am  getting  in  a  few 
hours  of  sleep  while  I  can. 

The  news  is  better  today,  but  for  the  last  few  days  we 
have  been  very  anxious.  The  roads  have  been  full  of 
refugees,  the  most  pathetic  people.  Coming  back  along  the 
Compi^gne  road  the  other  day  I  picked  up  a  lot  of  them 
and  filled  my  car,  mostly  women  and  children,  and  such  a 
mass  of  belongings!  One  of  the  men  had  a  sort  of  truck- 
wheelbarrow  affair  he  wanted  to  put  in  the  car,  too,  but 
there  was  n't  room,  and  i  told  him  I  was  afraid  he  must 
leave  it.  He  could  n't  bear  to,  because  it  belonged  to  the 
"  Patron,"  who  had  entrusted  it  to  him.  Finally  he  slowly 
and  sadly  laid  it  under  a  tree,  and  when  he  came  back  there 
were  tears  in  his  eyes.  1  could  n't  bear  that,  so  1  managed 
that  we  could  take  it,  and  his  joy  knew  no  bounds. 

One  night  I  was  just  going  ofT  duty  when  I  heard  sobs 
in  the  big  salle  of  the  H.O.E.,  and  discovered  a  poor  old 
woman  sitting  up  on  a  stretcher  rocking  back  and  forth, 
crying  with  pain  in  her  bandaged  hands.  She  had  a  dis- 
tracted daughter  and  a  little  grandson,  and  others,  with 
her.  They  were  refugees  from  beyond  Noyon  and  had  been 
travelling  on  foot  for  two  days,  practically  without  food. 
The  poor  old  thing  had  slept  on  damp  straw  and  was  in 
agonies  of  rheumatism.  We  got  hold  of  the  doctor,  and  got 
them  food,  and  they  were  taken  care  of,  at  least  for  one 
night. 


l88  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Creil,  Easter  Sunday, 

March  31,  1918 

An  order  came  for  a  lot  of  cars  for  3  a.m  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  nearly  had  to  go,  but  Miss  Lowther  managed  so 
that  I  did  n't.  I  slept  all  night  like  a  log  and  was  dead  to 
the  world  —  and  am  myself  again  this  morning. 

I  could  n't  go  to  mass  this  Easter  morning,  as  I  must 
not  be  out  of  reach  in  case  my  car  is  wanted  suddenly. 
There  must  be  a  number  of  the  big  cars  always  available 
during  these  rush  days. 

I  was  dreadfully  upset  a  day  or  two  ago,  over  two  in- 
jured civilians.  They  arrived  on  a  train,  and  were  carried 
out  and  put  in  one  of  our  cars  —  the  man's  chest  blown  to 
pieces  —  dying  —  and  the  woman  legless,  hit  by  an  obus, 
also  dying,  from  shock  and  lack  of  care.  Twenty  minutes 

later  I  saw  the  car  return  and  the  driver,  Miss  P , 

dash  out  and  into  the  H.O.E.  To  my  horror  I  found  that 
those  two  wretched  people  were  still  in  the  car  —  they 
had  been  refused  at  the  hospital,  because  of  being  civilians. 
I  got  the  woman  some  water  and  she  drank  it  —  the  man 

was  beyond  speech.    Meanwhile  Miss  P had  secured 

a  letter  from  the  medecin  chef,  and  took  them  back  to  the 
hospital.  They  were  taken  in,  but  it  was  just  about  too 
late  —  their  faces  haunted  me  all  that  day.  On  the  whole, 
the  organization  is  fairly  good,  I  think,  though  at  times  bad. 
It  is  very  trying  to  take  a  load  of  dead  soldiers  to  a  hospital 


FRANCE  189 

and  be  told  they  have  nowhere  to  put  them,  the  mortuary 
being  full  —  and  after  a  long  wait  to  see  the  bcxJies  laid 
in  a  dreadful  little  wash-house. 

A  lot  of  the  people  have  left  this  town  and  many  of  the 
shops  are  shut.  They've  had  the  Germans  here  once,  and 
their  nerve  is  gone.  Miss  Hackett  was  just  opening  the 
Canteen  —  ten  days  ago  —  at  Montdidier  —  and  now  we 
don't  know  where  she  will  have  it. 

1  saw  yesterday  a  crowd  of  young  boys  going  off  —  a 
precaution  lest  they  fall  into  Hun  hands.  And  even  the 
older  men,  over  age  —  our  concierge  among  them  —  have 
been  sent  farther  back.  He  was  just  called  up  as  if  for 
service,  and  we  did  n't  hear  the  real  reason  till  later.  None 
of  the  remaining  people  sleep  at  home  now — they  all  walk 
some  distance  to  spend  the  nights  in  caves. 

That  big  gun  which  bombards  Paris  is  the  limit  —  it 
fires  almost  directly  over  our  heads,  they  say,  but  of  course 
we  know  nothing  of  it. 

Two  days  ago  I  had  a  long  talk  just  near  here  with  an 
English  officer.  We  simultaneously  spoke  to  ask  each  other 
for  news!  His  men  were  resting  in  a  village  square,  and  1 
was  keen  to  know  where  they  had  come  from  and  where 
they  were  going.  Curiously  he  had  been  at  Cugn>-  until 
the  retreat  began  a  week  ago,  and  knew  all  that  country 
well.  (You  know  the  British  took  it  over  just  before  we 
left  there.)   1  wish  1  could  tell  }ou  all  the  interesting  things 


I90  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

he  told  me.  But  he  knew  less  than  I  did,  for  Miss  Lowther 
had  motored  up  to  the  front  the  day  before,  with  a  doctor, 
to  rescue  some  important  papers  from  falling  into  German 
hands  —  and  brought  us  the  latest  news  on  her  return. 
He  did  n't  even  know  why  they  were  going  to  Amiens,  and 
I  told  him  why,  and  to  hurry  up! 

Creil,  April  i,  191 8 

I  was  sent  out  with  four  others  last  night  at  10,  to 
unload  a  barge  of  wounded  on  the  river,  and  got  back 
about  1.30  this  morning.  One  of  my  men  had  been  a  pris- 
oner in  German  hands  all  the  day  before  and  escaped. 
And  I  had  several  wounded  Boches  to  carry.  It  was  all 
done  in  the  pitch  dark  by  shaded  lanterns  —  most  pic- 
turesque. 

H.O.E.  No.  16,  Creil, 

April  5,  1918 

A  lot  of  letters  have  come,  all  most  welcome  and 
interesting  —  and  I  think  I  am  a  bit  homesick  today!  I 
am  off  duty  for  the  day  as  I  have  a  slight  return  of  the 
"campitis"  —  nothing  at  all  really.  I  think  it  was  only 
because  I  got  pretty  tired  with  so  little  sleep,  and  this 
place  is  so  low  and  unhealthy  that  it  is  a  wonder  we  are  n't 
all  ill  all  the  time!  I  am  not  sorry  this  came  as  an  excuse 
for  a  real  rest.   I  stayed  in  bed  all  the  morning,  and  feel 


FRANCE  191 

much  better  this  afternoon.  Mrs.  Talbot  cooked  me  eggs 
most  deliciously  —  she  is  always  so  good  —  and  1  told  her 
once  how  grateful  my  mother  would  be  when  she  knew! 

I  forget  if  1  wrote  you  what  a  long  time  1  went  without  a 
decent  night's  sleep,  during  the  rush.  1  was  called  out  each 
night  just  as  I  was  thinking,  "Now,  1  really  shall  get  to 
bed  tonight!"  I  told  you  of  the  barge  of  wounded  we  un- 
loaded on  the  river.  The  next  night  was  deadly  —  a  train 
due  at  1 1  and  we  waited  all  night  until  it  came  in  at  7  the 
next  morning!  1  had  only  one  real  night  in  bed,  in  five  — 
and  day  work  as  well  —  and  towards  the  end  1  got  posi- 
tively dithered.  I  nearly  dropped  off  to  sleep  driving  one 
early  morning  —  it's  a  horrid  sort  of  dazed  feeling,  that 
one  may  fall  asleep  any  minute.  The  road  seems  to  undu- 
late in  front  of  you.  1  was  so  dead,  1  slept  through  one  of 
the  noisiest  and  nearest  air  raids  we've  had  —  there  were 
no  casualties,  so  we  were  not  called  out. 

You  ask  about  nurses  here  —  this  is  not  a  hospital  with 
beds,  but  a  Salle  de  Triage,  where  the  patients  come  in 
from  the  front  and  are  sorted  out  and  sent  on  to  different 
hospitals,  or  to  Paris  or  the  interior.  Here  there  are  only 
men  "infirmiers"  —  to  carry  the  stretchers,  etc.  —  and  Red 
Cross  ladies  to  feed  them  —  no  beds.  Very  few  dressings 
are  done  here.  It  is  a  part  of  the  railway  station,  and  a 
dreary  place. 

There  came  in  an  order  for  a  lot  of  cars  for  this  evening, 


192  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

and  mine,  being  big,  was  needed.  So  Miss  G ,  the  only 

other  driver  who  knows  the  G.M.C.,  had  to  take  her.  I 
had  gone  to  bed  and  was  asleep  already  when  there  was  a 
knock,  and  some  one  came  for  the  keys  of  my  tool  box.  I 
then  fell  asleep  again,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  another 

knock,  and  poor  Miss  G put  her  head  in,  most  awfully 

sorry,  but  she  could  n't  start  the  car  —  and  could  I  come. 
So  I  put  on  boots,  and  a  coat  over  my  pyjamas,  and  went 
down.  It  is  funny  how  cars  are  almost  human  —  they  seem 
to  know  their  own  drivers  and  she  started  like  a  lamb  for 
me!  She  is  considered  very  hard  to  start,  but  I  know 
her  so  well  now,  and  all  her  ways,  that  even  when  it's 
very  cold  I  have  little  trouble.  She  is  going  too  beauti- 
fully now. 

We  have  an  orderly  who  is  a  delightful  character.  He 
comes  from  Marseilles  —  and  talks  a  French  that  it  took 
some  time  to  understand  —  and  his  name  is  Mi!  His  job 
is  to  give  out  our  essence,  oil,  and  grease,  etc.,  and  to  fill 
the  radiators  with  water.  He  has  learned  to  crank  some  of 
the  easy  cars,  and  puffs  with  pride  when  they  start.  He 
sleeps  at  a  farm  near  by,  and  whenever  there  is  a  raid  he 
arrives  at  once,  panting,  no  matter  what  hour  of  the  night, 
to  fill  the  radiators  in  case  we  are  called  out. 

A  few  days  ago  we  were  sent  for  to  go  to  the  Bureau  one 
by  one,  to  receive  and  sign  for  our  pay.  For  two  months' 
service  in  the  French  army  we  received  the  princely  sum 


i 


FRANCE  103 

of  8  fr.  75  c.  each!  Rather  fun,  is  n't  it?  Miss  Lowthcr's 
pay,  as  id  lieutenant,  is  3  francs  50  a  day! 

Creil,  April  18,  1918 
Just  a  short  line,  as  I  shall  be  on  duty  in  a  few 

minutes.    1  slept  late  this  morning  and  Mrs.  T like  an 

angel  brought  me  breakfast,  for  1  was  really  rather  tired. 
I  was  on  steadily  for  twenty-four  hours  up  to  last  evening 
—  on  all  day  yesterday  and  all  the  night  before  —  and 
before  that  1  had  been  on  practically  all  day  for  two  or 
three  days  running.  We  are  constantly  unloading  trains 
and  barges  on  the  river  which  come  in  at  short  notice. 
Several  of  our  big  cars  are  out  of  order,  and  three  of  the 
Fords  too,  so  that  all  of  the  work  just  now  falls  on  a  few. 

Creil,  April  20,  19 18 
(On  duty.)  1  can't  write  properly  on  the  front  of 
my  car,  it  is  so  cold,  and  we  have  nowhere  to  sit  under 
cover.  My  hand  gets  stiff.  The  ground  was  white  with 
frost  this  morning.  I  have  just  heard  that  there  will  be 
another  peniche  (barge)  to  unload  on  the  river  this  after- 
noon, which  means  that  1  '11  be  on  all  day,  having  come  on 
at  8  A.M.  I  have  had  two  such  bad  cases  —  one  a  man  with 
an  amputated  arm,  who  screamed  at  every  movement  of 
the  car,  though  I  crawled  —  most  nerve-racking,  as  the 
road  was  very  bad.  And  a  dying  man  —  the  doctors  told 


194  I^  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

me  he  had  a  bullet  in  his  head,  and  could  n't  live  more  than 
a  few  hours  anyhow,  and  they  put  him  in  my  car  because 
she  has  the  smoothest  springs.  It  is  a  dreadful  feeling,  that 
a  man  may  be  dying  in  your  car  at  any  minute. 

I  have  just  been  seeing  eighteen  stalwart  British  Tom- 
mies into  the  train  for  Paris  —  and  my  hand  aches  from 
their  good-bye  shakes!  They  were  gassed  at  Noyon  three 
weeks  ago  and  got  away  from  the  hospital  in  pyjamas  and 
blankets  when  the  Germans  came  in.  They  have  been  sent 
on  here  from  a  Vichy  hospital,  all  very  seedy,  and  Miss 

S ,  who  was  on  night  duty,  collected  them  and  passed 

them  over  to  us  when  we  came  on  this  morning  at  8,  to 
prevent  their  being  sent  to  French  hospitals!  I  put  them 
in  the  back  of  my  car  till  we  caught  the  R.T.O.  just  as  he 
was  off  to  Paris,  and  got  it  arranged  that  they  should  go 
to  an  English  hospital  there  —  and  they  have  taken  their 
train  greatly  cheered.  I  gave  them  money  to  get  some 
food,  etc. 

The  pulse  of  Creil  centres  in  this  station-yard.  It  is 
interesting  to  watch  the  military  and  civil  life  as  we  sit  in 
our  cars  —  troops  of  all  kinds  coming  and  going  —  the 
French  in  their  blue,  Africans  with  their  red  fezes,  British 
and  Americans  in  khaki,  huge  camions,  staff  cars  tearing 
in,  farm  carts  coming  and  going  —  and  every  evening  the 
women  crowding  around  a  milk  cart  with  their  jugs. 

There  is  a  little  fox  terrier  called  Fifi,  who  is  a  friend  of 


FRANCE  195 

ours.  She  should  be  black  and  white,  but  was  so  utterly 
filthy  she  appeared  black  all  over  —  and  one  could  only 
love  her  and  feed  her  at  a  distance.  One  day  she  appeared 
spotlessly  white,  and  we  only  knew  her  by  her  lovely  brown 
eyes.  The  Americans  in  the  Transport  department,  who 
have  an  office  here,  had  taken  pity  on  her,  and  an  officer 
has  ordered  one  of  the  sergeants  whenever  he  takes  a  bath 
to  bathe  Fifi,  as  well! 

My  car  has  a  tendency  to  kick  —  and  yesterday  to  my 
horror  she  nearly  broke  the  arm  of  my  new  second  driver, 

Mrs.  H ,  wife  of  General  H ,  who  has  just  come 

out  from  England.  It  was  her  first  day,  and  I  was  showing 
her  about  the  car.  It  wasn't  anybody's  fault — 1  had 
talked  of  nothing  but  the  kicking,  and  how  careful  one 
must  be  —  and  the  spark  was  well  retarded.  Her  arm  is  n't 
broken  but  I  was  afraid  at  first  it  was,  or  even  worse,  the 
ligaments  torn  —  she  could  n't  move  it  for  half  an  hour. 

When  I  went  home  the  other  day  I  found  four  or  five 
sausages  ^  browsing  in  the  park,  looking  like  huge  ele- 
phants. They  live  there  now,  and  it  is  very  interesting  to 
see  them  go  up  every  night. 

There  was  a  persistent  rumor  in  Compi^gne,  which  kept 
reaching  us,  that  Miss  Hackett  and  two  of  the  canteeners 
(who  are  now  near  Montdidier)  had  been  taken  prisoners 
by  the  Boches.    We  were  feeling  very  anxious  until  we 

'  Observation  balloons. 


196  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

learned  it  was  not  true.  They  had  a  fairly  narrow  escape 

—  and  some  of  their  belongings  fell  into  Hun  hands. 

Creil,  May  6,  191 8 

I  told  you  of  the  arrival  of  the  sausages  —  they  are 
all  about  here  now,  in  a  circle,  and  we  have  n't  had  an  air 
raid  since,  though  frequent  "  alertes."  Whenever  there  is 
an  alerte  at  night,  no  lights  are  allowed  on  any  cars  —  not 
even  tiny  oil  lamps  —  and  it  is  terribly  trying  (not  to  say 
dangerous ! )  driving  in  absolute  blackness.  We  can't  see 
the  road,  nor  other  cars  or  camions,  coming  or  going. 

I  have  been  awfully  busy  —  steadily  —  and  feel  as  if  I 
had  forgotten  how  to  hold  a  pen !  Was  on  night  duty  again 
last  night,  with  only  four  hours'  sleep  on  a  stretcher,  as 
there  was  plenty  of  work  to  do.  As  soon  as  I  got  home  this 
morning  and  had  had  breakfast,  I  was  sent  off  again  for 
a  run  of  about  fifty  kilometres.  I  ought  to  have  got  back 
at  noon,  with  my  ten  wounded,  but  had  two  punctures.  I 
had  with  me  the  papers  for  my  ten,  and  also  for  about 
forty  other  wounded  as  well  (without  which  none  of  them 
could  take  the  train  sanitaire  to  which  we  were  carrying 
them),  so  I  got  the  officer  at  the  Pare  to  telephone  the 
H.O.E.  for  two  cars  to  come  for  men  and  papers.  It  was 
lucky  I  did,  for  I  did  n't  get  back  until  4  —  decidedly 
hungry  and  tired !   I  had  to  get  a  new  tire  and  inner  tube 

—  and  when  I  started  to  help  the  mechanic,  he  said  that 


FRANCE  197 

Mademoiselle  must  not  "salir  ses  mains."  I  showed  him 
my  hands  —  black  from  wrestling  with  punctures  already, 
and  answered,  "C'est  la  guerre." 

1  have  n't  yet  had  the  "day  off"  which  was  promised  me 
four  days  ago.  Every  day  it  is  "tomorrow."  And  tonight 
I  felt  it  must  be  tomorrow,  1  was  so  tired.  But  an  order 
has  just  come  for  a  lot  of  cars  at  6.30  a.m.  —  and  I  must 
go.  You  know  how  1  hate  getting  up  early,  and  when  one 
has  had  a  short  allowance  of  sleep  for  nights,  it's  simply 
unspeakable!  My  car,  as  I  think  1  wrote,  has  been  kicking 

badly.   My  second  driver,  Mrs.  H ,  was  with  her  arm 

in  a  sling  for  ten  days.  Another  of  our  very  hefty  drivers 
who  can  swing  anything,  got  a  bad  wrist  from  her,  but  1  who 
know  her  so  well  got  off  with  a  few  nasty  jars.  It  is  getting 
beyond  a  joke,  however,  and  Miss  Lowther  said  the  engine 
must  come  down  and  be  decarbonized,  as  it's  not  possible 
here  to  get  it  done  with  oxygen. 

Creil,  May  8,  191 8 

The  news  is  so  much  better,  thank  God.  The  Ger- 
mans are  held,  and  today  even  pushed  a  little.  We  are 
supposed  to  be  going  to  the  front  very  soon  now,  but  it  will 
be  a  quiet  sector  and  there  will  probably  be  far  less  work 
than  we  are  getting  here.  I  may  have  to  leave  before  we 
move,  for  I  must  get  back  to  London  —  the  Clinic  only 
lent  me  to  the  Hackett-Lowther  Unit,  after  all! 


198  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

Very  trying  muggy  weather  lately  —  and  much  rain. 
And  yesterday  when  we  came  down  early  for  breakfast 
before  starting  off,  we  found  the  kitchen  floor  under 
water,  and  the  cook  sitting  with  her  skirts  tucked  up  and  a 
face  of  resignation,  her  feet  on  a  block  of  wood!  It  was 
really  a  funny  picture.  This  is  a  flat,  unhealthy  place,  and 
the  river  level  appears  to  be  higher  than  the  basement. 
Have  I  told  you  how  good  our  food  is?  The  nearer  the 
front  you  are,  the  more  you  can  get  —  and  we  have  all 
sorts  of  little  extras  not  to  be  had  in  Paris  now.  Beef  is 
the  only  meat  allowed  us  by  the  army,  but  Mrs.  Talbot  is 
a  wonderful  manager  and  we  don't  realize  that  we  have 
been  more  than  three  months  now  on  nothing  but  beef  — 
she  has  taught  the  cook  so  many  delicious  ways  of  varying 
it.  Our  cook  is  at  present  a  local  woman  given  us  by  the 
army  —  at  the  front  we  are  to  have  a  man. 

Such  a  horrid  time  I  have  had  —  I  put  my  back  out 
yesterday  and  was  in  bed  the  rest  of  the  day.  I  got  up 
early,  as  five  of  us  had  to  evacuate  a  hospital  before  lo  a.m. 
On  the  way  I  stopped  to  crank  one  of  our  cars  which  had 
stalled  on  a  hill  —  and  though  I  felt  nothing  at  the  time, 
an  hour  later  I  could  hardly  stand.  When  I  got  home  Mrs. 
Talbot  sent  me  to  bed,  and  they  found  my  temperature  and 
pulse  quite  high.  I  was  in  a  misery,  feeling  so  awful !  Miss 
Lowther  wanted  to  send  for  a  very  big  surgeon  she  knows, 
who  is  now  at  Compiegne,  but  I  felt  sure  that  I  had  prob- 


FRANCE  199 

ably  only  slipped  a  vertebra  —  so  was  n't  worried.  Of  course 
I  feel  wobbly  today,  and  1  shall  have  to  be  careful  for  a  bit. 

May  12,  1918 

We  are  off  at  last  —  three  cheers!  Our  orders  have 
come,  and  we  are  leaving  here  on  Wednesday  the  1 5th,  and 
going  to  the  front  within  a  few  days.  We  have  to  go  first 
to  the  Headquarters  of  the  special  army  we  are  to  be  at- 
tached to,  and  change  our  personnel  —  get  new  mechanics, 
two  new  men  cooks,  new  non-commissioned  officers,  and 
so  on.    Our  lieutenant,  of  course,  stays  with  us. 

You  can  imagine  our  excitement  and  joy.  Some  of  the 
drivers  had  given  up  hope,  and  were  grizzling,  and  saying 
we  should  never  go  —  but  I  felt  sure  we  should. 

After  this  1  shan't  be  able  to  say  where  1  am.  I  am  not 
sure  how  much  work  1  '11  be  able  to  do,  on  account  of  my 
back.  Am  hardly  able  to  drive  as  yet,  and  am  worried  as 
to  how  soon  I  shall  be.  A  specialist,  very  clever,  happens 
to  be  here,  and  our  lieutenant  brought  him  to  see  me.  Un- 
der no  circumstances  may  I  crank  for  a  while,  nor  lift  any 
weight.  Lucky  thing  my  car  is  all  right  to  swing  now! 
Before  she  was  taken  down  and  decarbonized  nobody  could 
start  her  except  the  men  mechanics  and  me.  That  was  why 
I  got  no  rest  ever,  because  no  one  else  could  take  her  out. 

We  have  up  to  now  been  attached  to  the  French  army 
—  now  we  are  attached  to  an  army,  and  it 's  that  which 


200  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

makes  all  the  difference  and  gets  us  to  the  front  —  for  we 
go  wherever  that  army  goes  —  front  when  it  goes  into 
the  trenches,  and  "en  repos"  with  it  when  it  comes  out. 
1  long  to  tell  you  which  Armee  we  are  to  be  attached  to,  for 
it  has  just  made  an  everlasting  name  for  itself  —  but  I  may 
not  —  and  in  America  you  would  n't  know  it  by  its  name, 
or  number  rather. 

Foch  is  a  wonder.  One  seldom  hears  of  P now.  The 

French  believe  in  retiring  a  man  when  he  is  tired  (P and 

J were  just  "fatigues")  —  and  it  is  so  sensible,  and 

not  in  the  least  a  disgrace.    The  English  don't  do  it  —  and 

should.    Their  General  G was  tired  and  what  was  the 

result  — !  The  English  have  done  such  magnificent  work 
in  this  last  offensive.   I  wish  I  could  write  all  I  hear. 

Somewhere  ^  —  at  the  Front 
May  i6,  1918 

Here  we  are  —  at  the  very  front  —  and  I  wish  I 
might  say  where.  We  left  our  chateau  yesterday,  an  im- 
posing convoy  of  pale-gray  ambulances  with  big  red  crosses 
—  and  got  here  in  the  afternoon.  The  H.O.E.  was  terribly 
sorry  to  lose  us  —  all  the  big-wigs  of  the  place  came  out  in 
relays  of  staff  cars  to  say  good-bye,  and  there  was  much 
bowing  and  scraping  and  handshaking,  and  flashing  of 
gold  braid  in  the  sun.  The  owner  of  the  chateau  and  his 
1  Compiegne.  (Editor's  Note.) 


FRANCE  201 

wife  were  there,  and  she  presented  us  each  with  a  lovely 
little  boutonniere  of  lilies  of  the  valley.  The  Dames  de  la 
Croix  Rouge,  in  whose  room  at  the  Triage  we  had  sat  or 
slept  when  on  night  duty,  sent  a  huge  basket  of  flowers. 

We  were  hurried  and  hot  and  weary,  from  packing  our 
luggage  into  the  cars,  and  got  no  lunch,  just  some  dry  bread 
and  chocolate,  and  a  little  wine  from  an  inn.  So  we  were 
starving  for  supper.  When  we  arrived  we  had  to  wait  in 
the  hot  sun  for  about  two  hours,  lined  up  along  a  blazing 
pave  road  —  while  the  lieutenant  and  Miss  Lowther  went 
ahead  in  the  staff  car  to  fmd  billets.  We  are  in  a  big  house 
which  has  a  garden  with  two  entrances  —  necessary  on 
account  of  the  cars,  for  we  don't  like  to  leave  them  out  in 
a  road  if  it  can  be  avoided.  There  was  quite  a  choice  of 
houses,  as  everything  is  empty.  This  one  is  comfortable 
and  the  garden  is  nice,  though  small  after  our  park.  There 
is  an  abri  (dug-out)  under  the  lawn,  with  sandbags  at  each 
entrance  —  and  every  inch  of  remaining  space  is  filled  up 
by  our  cars. 

We  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  a  hose  for  the  cars,  after  three 
months  with  a  rickety  pump,  and  that  there  was  running 
water  in  the  house  —  but  in  the  middle  of  our  self-congrat- 
ulations, and  before  we  had  had  time  to  even  wash  our 
hands,  a  near-by  shell  broke  the  water  main,  and  lo,  not  a 
drop  more  water  was  to  be  had !  We  hear,  however,  that 
tomorrow  it  will  be  mended,  and   then  there  will   be  a 


202  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

stampede  for  the  bathroom.  There  actually  is  a  bath!  The 
owners  evacuated  at  short  notice  a  month  or  so  ago,  taking 
everything  —  and  since  then  soldiers  have  been  here.  I 
wish  you  could  see  the  dirt  —  the  floors  were  so  black  that 
no  words  can  describe  it.  I  have  swept  my  floor  at  least 
four  times  —  and  get  out  almost  as  much  dirt  now  as  the 
first  time.  The  whizz  and  jar  of  a  big  shell  woke  me  this 
morning  about  8.30,  and  I  found  I  was  missing  a  strenu- 
ous bombardment.  At  the  fifth  sweeping  this  morning  I 
found  a  piece  of  shrapnel  in  the  corner  of  my  room,  which 
certainly  was  not  there  last  evening  —  and  i  am  wonder- 
ing if  it  came  in  through  the  window  during  the  night!  I 
can't  say  it  did  n't,  as  I  slept  soundly  through  much. 

Our  supper  was  very  sketchy  last  evening,  as  the  stove 
smoked  —  and  at  breakfast  this  morning  I  was  longing  for 
a  second  bowl  of  cofi'ee,  and  we  could  only  have  one  apiece. 
Milk  is  very  scarce  and  many  things  are  not  to  be  had  at 
all.  In  fact,  the  saying  that  the  nearer  you  are  to  the  front, 
the  more  you  can  get,  seems  not  to  hold  good  here.  It 
probably  applies  to  the  halfway  places  like  Creil. 

Somewhere  * 


May  19,  1918 

We  get  frequent  shelling  here  —  and  last  night 
several  houses  were  demolished  close  by.   There  is  a  bed 

^  Compiegne.   (Editor's  Note.) 


FRANCE  203 

from  one  house,  hanging  on  a  gate-post,  flung  out  by  the 
explosion,  and  the  bedding  is  still  on  a  laburnum  bush! 

It  has  been  terribly  hot  today.  Miss  Lowther  made  a 
little  speech  at  supper  last  night  —  to  tell  us  what  our  new 
work  is  to  be.  There  are  three  degrees  of  front  work,  and 
we  were  afraid  that  being  women,  we  should  only  get  the 
third  kind  (which  is  from  here  back)  —  instead  of  which 
we  are  to  have  the  first  two  degrees.  You  can  imagine  how 
glad  1  am  that  all  this  has  come  before  I  have  to  leave.  It 
is  very  thrilling  and  a  tremendous  compliment  —  for  they 
are  giving  it  to  us  at  once  because  the  reports  of  the  work 
of  the  Unit  were  so  excellent.  Miss  Lowther  told  us  that 
it  was  entirely  owing  to  ourselves  that  we  had  got  what 
we  wanted  —  and  thanked  us  for  our  good  work.  We  have 
numerous  new  rules  to  adapt  ourselves  to.  One,  you  will 
be  amused  to  hear,  is  that  we  must  salute  all  officers  of  the 
army,  and  are  to  be  drilled  how  to  do  it  properly!  The 
order  came  yesterday.  On  the  street  it  is  all  right  to  avoid 
seeing  them  as  much  as  possible,  but  if  we  meet  their  eyes 
we  must  salute,  and  the  higher  their  rank,  the  less  can  we 
avoid  seeing  them!  We  are  not  allowed  to  go  on  duty 
(which  will  be  twenty-four  hours  on  and  twenty-four  hours 
off)  without  our  tin  hats.  We  are  to  have  gas-mask  drill 
until  we  can  put  them  on  in  I  forget  just  how  few  seconds. 

Last  night  at  supper  a  soldier  appeared  suddenly  at  the 
window  of  the  front  hall  where  we  have  our  meals  —  and 


204  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

handed  in  an  official-looking  letter  through  the  broken  pane 
of  glass.  It  was  for  the  lieutenant,  and  we  were  all  sur- 
prised when  he  showed  great  amusement  on  reading  it. 
What  do  you  suppose  it  was  —  an  order  from  Headquar- 
ters to  leave  off  winter  flannels!  "Les  tricots  et  calefons 
de  flanellette"  to  be  "retires"  by  the  25th  of  May  —  and 
these  effects  to  be  sent  in  camionettes  to  a  certain  depot 
on  that  date.  You  can  imagine  how  we  laughed. 

May  24,  1918 

The  work  here  is  nothing  much  as  yet — this  front 
is  very  quiet  just  now  —  and  we  are  to  be  started  in  grad- 
ually, going  forward,  but  not  yet  up  to  the  Postes  de 
Secours.    At  present  we  are  en  repos,  not  working  at  all. 

The  postes  de  secours  are  close  behind  the  trenches  — 
they  are  just  dug-outs  underground  where  the  wounded 
have  their  first  dressing,  and  are  kept  till  dark. 

We  have  heard  all  details  of  the  terrific  raid  at  Creil, 
on  the  night  of  the  very  day  we  left.  They  say  that  the 
Boche  observer  overhead  did  not  see  we  were  gone.  Four 
bombs  fell  just  around  our  chateau  and  one  landed  right 
on  the  concierge's  house,  knocking  the  roof  completely  in, 
and  cracking  the  plaster  on  the  chateau  walls.  One  of  our 
former  mechanics  was  wounded,  and  we  were  truly  sorry 
to  hear  that  the  little  sergeant  at  the  H.O.E.,  who  had 
charge  of  loading  the  wounded  into  our  cars,  was  killed. 


FRANCE  205 

He  was  standing,  sheltered,  in  the  doorway  from  which 
we  have  watched  many  a  raid.  It  is  a  great  loss  —  I  have 
never  known  any  one  so  kind  and  fatherly  to  the  wounded. 

The  heat  has  been  frightful  for  three  days  —  but  the 
air  here  is  far  better  than  at  Creil,  where  we  were  so  low. 
We  have  had  numerous  exciting  raids.  The  invaders  often 
get  turned  back  from  Paris  over  our  very  heads,  while  we 
sit  shivering  in  a  cold  cellar.  We  hate  going  down,  and 
some  refused,  until  Miss  Lowther  read  the  riot  act,  and 
said  it  was  a  military  order  and  we  had  no  choice.  We  got 
bombs  very  near  last  night.  We  have  camouflaged  the  cars 
under  the  trees  with  considerable  difficulty,  as  the  garden 
is  small.  1  would  much  rather  be  the  thing  the  Boches  are 
trying  for  than  be  just  near  it.  They  are  afraid  to  fly  low 
enough,  and  generally  just  miss  what  they  are  aiming  at! 

Our  gas-mask  drill  was  rather  trying  in  the  heat  —  but 
we  were  so  proficient  in  putting  them  on  quickly  that  we 
had  to  have  only  one  drill.  The  new  kind  are  supposed  to 
be  much  better  than  any  other  —  and  have  long  snouts. 
1  would  give  anything  for  a  photograph  of  us  lined  up,  like 
a  row  of  hogs  with  human  bodies! 

I  wish  I  could  tell  you  about  a  thrilling  trip  right  up  to 
the  very  front  lines  in  a  staff  car,  to  a  "premiere  poste  de 
secours"  in  one  of  the  most  interesting  parts  of  the  line. 
You  can't  imagine  what  it  is  to  pass  right  through  big 
French  guns  —  and  never  get  so  much  as  a  glimpse  of 


2o6  IN  THE  SOLDIER'S  SERVICE 

one,  they  are  so  well  hidden.  There  are  a  lot  of  old  Ger- 
man trenches  and  wire  entanglement  all  about  —  it  is 
country  that  was  fought  on  steadily  for  over  two  years 
—  shell  holes  everywhere,  and  a  stretch  of  open  road 
which  is  forbidden  for  cars  by  daylight,  as  it  is  in  sight  of 
the  Germans.  They  were  across  a  little  valley,  hidden 
in  woods.  Everything  is  quiet  just  now,  and  we  were 
not  fired  on.  Very  few  women  have  yet  been  so  close  to 
that  part  of  the  lines,  and  the  soldiers  stared  at  me  open- 
mouthed. 

I  am  not  yet  allowed  to  swing  a  car,  which  is  a  desperate 
bore.  I  have  been  waiting,  and  hoping  my  wretched  back 
would  improve.  But  it  has  n't  —  I  can't  do  any  walking 
to  speak  of  —  and  could  n't  manage  even  being  orderly 
for  the  day  —  so  I  have  had  to  resign  —  given  in  my  de- 
mission —  and  am  leaving  tomorrow,  at  the  end  of  my 
six  months.  It  is  awfully  hard  to  go,  for  in  a  few  days 
now  they  are  starting  the  poste  de  secours  work  —  and  I 
haie  to  leave  before  the  coming  offensive. 

Two  of  the  others  are  also  resigning  from  the  Unit,  as 
their  time  is  up  too. 

Paris,  Sunday,  May  26 

Bread  tickets  are  given  out  in  Paris  stations  to  all 
soldiers  and  people  in  uniform  arriving  on  leave  —  little 
strips  of  paper  with   "Militaires  en  permission— 100 


FRANCE  207 

grammes  du  pain"  printed  on  them.  They  asked  how  long 

—  and  gave  me  strips  for  three  days. 

I  talked  with  two  engineers,  who  told  me  how  Bertha 
was  destroyed  —  how  she  had  to  show  her  thirty-metre 
nose  when  she  fired  —  and  how  the  airmen  told  the  artil- 
lery by  wireless  just  when  to  fire  —  and  they  got  her.  All 
three  they  got  —  so  no  more  shells  on  Paris.  1  have  to  go 
tomorrow  to  be  demilitarized.  1  shall  receive  my  military 
ticket  to  Havre  —  and  after  that  am  just  a  mere  civilian 
again! 

it  was  quite  a  wrench  to  leave  the  Hackett-Lowther 
Unit.  Driving  my  car  for  the  last  time  wrung  my  heart. 
Miss  Lowther  would  like  me  to  come  back  my  next  holi- 
day —  a  year  from  this  summer. 

The  new  big  offensive  is  beginning  —  and  1  seem  to  have 
a  vision  ^  of  the  Unit  advancing  to  good  work  and  Glory 

—  without  me  I 

Much  love  — 

Mary. 

*  This  prophecy  was  fulfilled  some  weeks  later,  Miss  Lowther  and 
her  Unit  being  decorated  with  the  Croix  de  Guerre,  by  Colonel  Meyer 
of  the  Service  de  Sant6.  The  ambulances  were  lined  up  in  a  semi- 
circle behind  their  drivers,  at  a  chateau  not  far  from  Compi^gne,  and 
an  aeroplane  described  evolutions  overhead  as  the  ceremony  was  car- 
ried out  in  the  presence  of  oflBcers  of  the  French  army  and  stretcher- 
bearers.    {Editor's  Note.) 


EPILOGUE 

London,  May  30,  19 18 
Dearest  Mother:  — 

Here  I  am  —  back  again.    I  took  the  7.30  a.m.  train 

from  Paris  on  Tuesday,  and  joined  two  of  our  ex-drivers 

at  Havre.    One  of  them  has  been  ill  —  she  strained  her 

heart  very  badly,  and  has  been  at  the  American  Hospital 

at  Neuilly.    We  went  out  to  Harfleur  in  the  afternoon, 

and  had  tea  with  Captain  X ,  a  sporting  friend  of 

theirs  who  is  in  command  of  the  Remount  Camp  there. 

He  and  another  officer  showed  us  all  the  horses,  and  we 

saw  some  having  a  sulphur  dip  —  it  was  most  interesting. 

We  had  a  wonderfully  good  tea  outdoors  by  the  quaint 

old  farmhouse  of  stone,  where  they  are  billeted.  All  their 

cooking   is   done   by   the   much-talked-of  and   unjustly 

maligned  Waacs. 

The  London  specialist  found  my  vertebra  still  out,  half 
an  inch  or  so.  He  put  it  back  and  I  am  all  right  now  — 
but  he  says  I  must  take  a  rest  this  summer.  So  I  can't  go 
back  to  France. 

Another  new  Bertha  started  firing  again  while  I  was  in 
Paris.  Shells  landed  fairly  near  where  I  was  —  but  by 
the  time  they've  travelled  so  far  they  are  well  spent,  and 
seem  nothing  in  comparison  to  the  shelling  at  the  front. 


EPILOGUE  209 

When  I  reached  London  I  went  almost  directly  to  the 
Clinic.  Things  move  slowly,  but  No.  33  is  to  be  opened 
in  July,  or  early  August,  for  shell-shock.  Our  friend  in  the 

Ministry,  Mr.  B ,  went  out  of  office,  and  that  has 

caused  delays.  1  hope  there  won't  be  all  these  difficulties 
for  war-shock  in  America  when  I  go  home  to  work  —  after 
1  finish  the  course  here  and  get  my  certificate. 

1  was  just  in  time  for  the  Seminar  that  evening,  where 
one  of  the  analysts  read  a  report  on  the  case  of  my  for- 
mer patient  who  could  not  walk.  There  were  four  doctor 
guests.  No.  33  is  nearly  ready  —  doors  are  being  opened 
through  into  No.  34.  We  hope  that  before  very  long  we 
may  be  occupying  the  whole  block  of  houses.  1  found  the 
Common  Room  buzzing  with  new  young  students,  and 
am  keen  to  start  work  again. 

When  they  have  gotten  it  all  well  under  way  in  Lon- 
don, and  1  've  had  more  experience,  1  should  love  to  go  and 
work  under  our  doctors  "out  there"  —  for  my  own 
American  boys  as  well.  That  would  be  a  realization  of 
what  1  am  beginning  to  dream  of  —  war-shock  work  in 
France! 

Best  love  — 

Mary. 

THE  END 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .    A 


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